behind us are rivers and
rocks
flowing water making a song
soaking coldness
upon a bed of leaves
we make love
we sought silence
we are separated from
the rest
who thirst and hunger too
and search
for the warmth and
understanding
of universality
the love is done and
we rest upon the thought
of memories
in exhaustion
and i ask myself,
then what?
what is the fruit of happiness?
wave upon wave
comes
the meaninglessness of all endeavors
i am searching now
for a place where i can rest my head
and say: this is it
without humanity's bedrock
in the simplification of who i am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem