So eager for dawn
you derive that in the previous life
you were a small bird
When you spend all your life in human form
murmurs in your heart:
it is time to go home
Not going back to the bird’s nest
but to the blue sky above skyscrapers
to the early morning, the clouds beyond dust
to the days on the pillow of refreshing breeze
departing from the room where air clashes to fire
and wandering lightheartedly
No longer thinking of how to satiate a child
You are hovering counterclockwise
getting increasingly closer to the past
and eventually return into a child
Stretching your body on the wing of music
and becoming more and more feather-like
Beneath the wings
you clearly see every musical instrument
the drumhead of time, chords and holes
the tremor of baton
a newborn childhood in the orchestra
shining like a mirror
You are becoming transparent in it
You will bear out the happiness and suffering of your life
writing the story of the beginning and the end
into plump and soft clouds
and preparing rain for the earth
Standing on a boulder
looking down at the world you have lived
but refusing it as your coffin
Because in a previous life, you were a bird
and the universe is so great