He spent his life at the rim of the vortex, teetering
on the edge of the swirling miscellany of humanity;
the cold indifferent thrust of time below.
But one day, an impetuous urge came from nowhere
and nudged him forward. He stretched his arms
behind him as if they were wings of angels
and with one forceful inhalation,
he dived head first into the spiraling-up
and spiraling-down
of life and all its giddiness and grief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem