once more
you have written
a group of lines
without a vortex
waters are spilled
all over
into a desert of sand
so much sun
nothing is worth seeing
nothing drips or
trips
you wait for the night
when all the stars come out
into the open
darkness of the sky
the glittering lights of
emptiness
the overwhelming silence
of impermanence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem