this is what our tracks
on the road are asking
and so does every
step along the shores of
time: then what?
will it be justified?
will the reasons of reasons be enough?
this is just my body
and my mind
in that basket the ripe fruits are missing
the tracks cover themselves
and every step is finally erased
you ask: then what?
i return it with nothing
no, not even a smile
since i turn my back and then
proceed to another journey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem