the caterpillar feels you
how is it to be a worm
and how wings of a butterfly
come
as an instinct
but which you were not
so familiar
at first
until you fly one day
and for all the days of your life
and then you say
there is nothing in wings
that should excite us
flying is just another way of
living
and the worm in us in the past
does not really make a difference at all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem