A tonsured garden, a deforested place;
in the desert, an oasis still tolerates the sun
heat is reining in every life,
there is no space for anything other than sunshine.
Such kindness of light that burns the impulse
of every kind is the cruelest thing that needs to be deserted.
But every being there has forgotten the art of leaving
it is looked upon as deceitful…
fearful of criticism, the remaining ones are condemned to stay
to be charred to death with the burden of white-hot values,
it is staging onlookers as actors
killing the garden’s character in every minute of the day
that promises no evenings, no nights.
The moon has left the place for good,
there is no room for darkness.
The generosity of the sizzling sun is slowly spreading
its wings all over…golden numbness for sure
has ruined the balance of the Silver Star, beyond cure.