Endless is the flame
And it does not desire nirvana
It is always standing, an unseen tower.
The harpy eagle rests on the top, aimless flies on its wings
Sharply gazes at rat speed-
The fairies drift lazily in the soft night breeze.
Quick sand still follows, clings like a leech
Everywhere, at all times, in all places.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem