Where are you Yang?
Trapped immensely in the brain,
Seeking shelter from the fading rain,
Dripping drops of minutes through time?
Each clustered dropp is a memory of mine.
What is rain's yin-but time?
Are you sleeping peacefully
Within the ocean of my dreams?
Are the waves more heavy than imaginary?
Can you swim to where you cannot see-
Who is sleep's yin other than the sea?
Is the truth your friend or
Are you destiny's hand,
Which is to be the end-
An effigy flourished by heaven
Or the senseless ebony of nothing?
'Philosophy is forever dead, '
Thus says the wise man,
Who follows no where to the promise land.
Who is Reality's yin-is always uncertain.
Before I give in to the burdens of the day;
I will find you Yang!
I will search the universeve til I find your corpse
In the casket of everything.
Stopping the rain to finally awake
And protecting philosophy from It's fate
By shattering the mirror of opposite ways-
I have found you Yin-
As Yang.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem