the roots of time pierce
the lands of stoicism
silence is solitude and it sings
a very lonely song and yet
so compelling, so relaxing
that one realizes that happiness
that you were always seeking
to some ends of futility simply
lies there within the reach of your
kind hands, and you look down
there they are on broken wings
under your feet longing for your mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem