The difficulty is that
The Book of Life
Can be written only once,
Or else, I would write
Several chapters again and again,
Would kiss every letter,
Would graze every leaf with my eyes,
Would read aloud several chapters
For others to listen
Would wash with tears several pages.
And none would know,
Why it was so.
But the difficulty is that
The Book of Life
Can be written only once.
Several excerpts from this Book,
I repeat in my solitude,
Then to listen it closely,
Stars descend on my eye-lashes,
Then I shut my lips tightly
And then, the heart, grain by grain,
Drains out with every breath
Then, in the pursuit of slumber,
I stray far far away,
