the last time i saw him
he wore thick glasses
but it did not deter him
from being interested
with what he cannot see
without it.
he uses his hands to feel.
he embraces all those that he love
he keeps his imagination alive
from far
i only read his poems
his words are all alive
like water
filling in the cracks of life
like clouds
taking subtle shapes
and always transient
his spirit spreads throughout
the universe
his mind my mind too
after that moment when a certain light
arrives
and flickers and then forever gone
in the vastness of air
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem