How can I cover you?
You are there,
There the bare truth.
And I myself, in bareness.
No word, no meaning,
But you appear, inside,
The silent spectator.
No dream, no reality,
No light, no shadow,
Let me hold- everything
is a magic-show.
No where to go,
And I know, you are a blore
And also a blow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow, how is a simple, minimilist write, so intriging and still flows beautifully off ones tongue.