1
Holding onto the forefinger of the poetical world,
I am going on.
I am still going on,
From a deep moment to the deepest momentum,
From the finite to the infinite world...
2
Mounting on the chariot of words,
I have traveled the surroundings,
Stopping suddenly in the wide area of mind,
I have taken some rest for a while.
Or, showing the back of my hand to the loneliness of mind,
I have secretly gained the companion pleasure of the poetical spirit,
And as you know, more fiercely than this,
I have nothing to display exaggeratedly!
The fontal books of the world are the tonal essence of my poetry.
The Quran, the Bible, the Ramayana, and the Tripitaka,
Or the summation of other religious scriptures;
They all seem absorbed in the abundance of poetical juice,
Therefore, I tell you, the entire world is a great poem,
Or the highest organ of life.
3
Sometimes in the indecipherable sounds of birds,
Sometimes in the combination of laughter and tears,
Or through the mind-blowing breeze of wind,
By attentively listening to the sound advice,
I often hear the tunes of poetry;
They provide me with the key resources to write down a beautiful piece of poetry.