the days passed
they all rushed
as though someone is
dying and we all want
to save him
we do not notice the
markings on the walls
the strips of paper on
the pavements
we all rushed
because life is waiting
when we reached there
the gloom is growing
and we begin to ask
why and where and when
the moment came when
breathing stops
like an edge of a ruler
where measure is cut
we paused and that was the
time when we all begin to
stop thinking
about the where the when and the
why
what was important has become
insignificant
like air or sunlight or dew
or grass for the goats
or river for the horse
o twig for the dragonfly
the reason has gone like mist
upon the hill
it has surrendered to the
warmth of the will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem