my wish is to simply tell you
what i was, am
and can possibly be,
i do not wish that you extend your hand to me and take me to your place
i am here
and that is the only fact that i am
i can manage myself
just like everyone else
i do not know about helping hands
i have mine somehow
my wish is simple enough
to find the words to give you the picture
of what we are
who we were, where can we be
and what shall we be,
the words have not been well enough
they are shorter and inaccurate for
the size of our dreams
i still wish to find the words
and i am getting older
and older
sooner shall i realize perhaps that
there are no such words,
that what we are
are but dreams and aspirations
and that there are
and there will be no words
exact for all these
when we die, they will bury us, and then they will give us
the perfect sigh
and if you take a closer look, they speak through the
flowers and the stones
their tears and their hands
and then
finally on the marks of their footsteps
away from us....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem