To fight
is to look for death
beneath the carpet.
We have ourselves.
And within us we have
those resting
so quietly,
we do not hear them.
It is in their hands.
The greatest love poem was written for yourself.
Because I love You
I know not where I am.
I know not what I do.
I am sure though, that I am loved.
If there was only one person
you could find, would you choose
your lover or your child?
How do you fall
and how do you make a self
once again?
Never will the shadow
be a place of darkness
forever.
Not externally
or in another world
within your soul,
what remains?
To dream
is to meet
my second self
and the life I am not existing in.
הבודדה
המשוררת שכבת על המיטה
כציפורה פצוע
The limit pushes upon itself. We are not our choice but the choice of our Creator. I am in the process of remembering my purpose.
How far is your lover? Time we do not know that we have. But it passes.
אין סוף
כאשר אין כאן.
מנסים לחזור.
ותמיד אפשרי.
Between us
it is not the same.
There is both love and its contrary
but without love, nothing else
can exist.
What do we lack when we leave?
I return home every night
without falling.
There is no without.
If we believe we lack,
it is only a misunderstanding
of what is meant for us.
Even without is not without.
Half of your night I spent falling in love
and the other half I was awake.
You can only know now.
The strongest one is not the biggest.
The wisest one is not the loudest.
The most content one is not the happiest.
אכתוב לך הכל.
הסיפור הארוך שלא מפסיק להמשיך למרות
החושך או האור.
The answer to life
is to be.