reedom
what shape is freedom?
a flicker
on the candle in the dark night
the wind blows
and the flicker moves anywhere
the wind goes
freedom?
the strong wind puts the light out
on a single blow
freedom?
the candle knows how to make its own flame
and lets go some of its melting matter
freely flowing its own body
consuming itself
down the drain
to its foot
like tears
the molten drops slide
and solidify
taking some shapes
misconceived
unassigned by us
freedom?
the freedom to take our own shapes
the freedom to consume ourselves
the freedom to be finally
extinguished
freedom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem