i am telling you
and i will always tell you this
it is the pain that makes it beautiful
and the more pain there is the more beautiful it becomes
do not ask what is it
what it is
it is just as it is
and nothing else
and here comes the ultimate thing that i must tell you that
ultimate beauty in pain that perfects what beauty is there left in the course of the flow of all these, all these, all these
they you lie with eyes closed and a half smile surrounded by a cloud of flowers in perfect beauty in perfect peace as they say the prayers allegedly for you but without their knowing that they say these prayers for themselves who still think that there is another exit other than this....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem