there is no pretense in you
as you shall continue the silence
as i keep on being the mud
under your lotus.
the woman by the river sees me
much different
but i must admit the truth of
your eyes
i can be the lotus tomorrow
away from this mud
but i must wait more time
for me to like it
it is desirable of course
it is sought but never taken
it is imagined but still not
real
i sit here and gaze at all the
people here
seated upon their own lights
i wish i had no thoughts
i wish i am nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem