today let me tell you i read about falling
contained in your poem which sounds like
zen,
something metaphysical from the point of view
of taoism
which likely you must have learned so well while you were in Tibet
when you studied in Thailand
when you spent sometime contemplating on the ruins
of Myanmar
you tell me that not everything that falls
reaches the ground
some of them simply dissolve in the air
and the hands and palms of the earth
waiting
actually receives nothing
like snowflakes overrun by summer heat
like your sighs simply dissolving in the clouds
but at the conclusion you were honest enough
to admit that some are simply falling
and keep on falling
and falling
to some depths
of infinity
on an eternal abyss
that even time
has no power to catch
and hold them
they just keep on
falling
it is their nature
agape, askance,
behold!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem