there is a tiny bird
on my lap that wants to fly away
i can be an edge
of a cliff for a start
and then if it is indecisive to act
swiftly on a certain
doubt
i can be a finger that makes a snap
and tell it
what exactly is time all about
time is not time
unless we are in it
when we speak and when
we become so silent
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem