Running after the light of life is a passing fancy, filled
with distaste and abandoned hope.
Standing at the line of demarcation, denoting the exact
time of departure, not thinking of anyone or anything,
save that of sorrow and loneliness.
Ready now, to abandon it all in favor of death's darkness
beneath stars of life, throwing glances across margins of
heaven, not wanting to set limits or hide within this
hopeless universe.
Traveling alone on this empty stretch of inner life,
sinking depths of sadness beneath the sand dunes, suffocated
by the uselessness of life, unwanted, unlived, from this
moment forward to eternity's doorstep.
Giving all of myself to rigorous duties of passing through,
allowing myself now to let go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem