I am sitting on a stairway
just sitting here
i am not waiting for someone
just sitting here anyway
i am watching dusts and birds
flying low on the trees,
you know what? i have found peace
in all that come and go
watching all these make me feel
like what i am seeing: dusts, birds
too light with their own kind of wings,
and always moving or drifting
and i imagine how serene can nights
be when finally we land on the softness
of home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem