Tides of death are playing their rhythms quietly in this mind,
not wanting to disturb the fragile balance of thought between
living and dying.
Curiosity peeking out, wanting to know and identify what, where,
and when it will capture us totally and take us beyond the final
curtains of our demise.
Listening to tides of death as they play their rhythms, not want-
ing to disturb this mere poet just yet, leaving me to continue
writing poetry for the time being.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem