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He sits on the street corner
His woolly dog is sleeping
His friend Cane always with him
In his hands an old flute
Playing his misfortune.
His eyelids fused together
He hears the passers’ footsteps and heartbeats,
He hears the laughs, angers and sights,
He perceives people cruelties and indifferences…
The outside world synopsizes poignant noises.
His inside world enlightens his senses
Touching, feeling, reasoning the abstracts
The outside darkness no longer scares him
His brain and heart’s insights lead him
Through it, indulge in it to find out magical lights.
Lights in the deep depth of darkness
Lights in the feeling of the fresh air
Lights when it touches his cheek and caresses his hair
Lights when his heart opens his eyes to see the unseen
Lights when he sees things that sighted eyes are so blind to see.
…
He once asked an old man
‘What does life look like?’
The old man smiled for awhile and said:
‘The core of life is all within us, englobes us
What remains outside is just shade’.
Socalledpoetry of Biba
So-called Poetry of Biba 