The travelling light
that seems to be in the past,
reminds us of activities.
That might,
have happened but did not.
It seems we are travelling to the past
of the light,
which shows us the
once beautiful earth.
Appearing from pure
outer space,
everyday, that did not happen
and nothing but giving us
memory.
This is it,
the yellow light of the sun.
The white light of the moon.
The blue light of he neon.
The white light of the
doorways to heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem