the fast mind does not wait for your
arrival
you are as gentle, and slow as a snowflake
we are the wind, and the unfrozen river,
we move and transfer and go elsewhere
we have no purpose
we have no specific place for that destination
we are not part of you
we are those that you see and then gone
in a short moment
we do not belong here neither there
we do not understand
who we are
sometimes we think we are cursed
perhaps punished so wisely
we do not stay we are not held
we are dews, we are mists, we are merely sounds
always faint.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem