The vase fell on the floor
Now that vase doesn’t exist any more
Shattered and smattered
Pieces of baked clay that once come from earth
Dust it becomes and after taking birth
Dust it returns to soon enough
The body is the vessel, the vase;
Life the transient uncanny phase
Dust we came from, albeit from the dust of the stars
From Mercury, Venus, even from Mars
We hold the secret and in our tombs
The secret is that dust is just sleeping wombs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.