there comes a time
when you go beyond
praise and censure
when reward or punishment
does not matter
to you anymore more than
a slap or a kiss
you are not dead yet
you simply become a
lotus on the pond
undisturbed by the rain
or sunshine
unperturbed by the mud
beneath you
unamazed by the blueness
of the sky
above you
when you are you because
you are not you
when your eyes do not open
to see
when your heart does not beat
to live
when seasons pass
and you do not know that they are there passing
when you are engulfed by so much openess
when you do not know
if some doors close if some windows soon open
and when there are some more coming and going and leaving
that you know that you do not ever know
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem