If nations or religions are bunches of grapes,
then ripe one falls off to ground, where it has its source.
Human heart is like bird with wings,
Fly high above where there are no boundaries.
The vast ocean or infinite sky or blowing wind,
or birds with strong wings, or may be butterflies,
may be wisdom or innocence or ego's foolishness,
who can believe obey narrow human boundaries?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem