Cannot walk on this silver carpet
Neither can Kings, Queens or Gods
It stretches before me, almost unending
In the morning it will begone, replaced
By red or gold, sometimes nothing
Arranged to awaken your senses
Many have painted the gods creation
Others like me just stand and stare.
Beauty unplanned, laid before me
Even on this darkest night, it's there.
Yet in a moment, the carpet's lifted
Now like a room in total blackness
There is nothingness, souls disappeared
The mood now changed from night to day
As this carpet weaver slowly, slips away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem