Life turns out to be an endless puzzle —
an endlessness that cannot be simply solved.
Simple — it sounds so simple to you;
and to you I am grateful, in many a verse.
The voice of life is so full in itself, and unbounded;
cruel it is, yet always a way toward calm.
Deaf in so many ways, yet such resounding music —
rhythmic it beats, with the power of the pure.
I hope to meet my absolute evil one day,
and tell him: I am not the same toward life anymore.
No more regrets to you, no pain of the past —
living in the moment is all I have now.
My life now turns to the less-travelled way:
less hearing, less thinking, but more doing.
The soul moves my body, once a slave to sorrow —
for life is a life only by its journey to a destination.