Today: March 22 2019
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A grain of sand in the world of being

A grain of sand in the world of being
And the result of coition.
Born to learn something,
Living, do not know
The World Created by God
And for what is born.
I thought I was born,
But disappeared
In the thoughts of the elders from the ages,
In the majesty of their words.
And in truth,
Pierced by a revelation
The very meaning of birth.
And since childhood, a disciple,
And life as a moment.
Accompanied by intelligent speeches,
With cargo on the shoulders,
From our old people
And from the shackles
The knowledge of the faithful,
And bypassing the cunning of filth,
A grain of sand in the wisdom of centuries.
We are all children.
A grit of being
And I.
In the cycle of words and dust,
Not distinguishing the myth from being,
I listen to the elders' thoughts
On the life of the sense.
Understand when trying,
To the truth and to the word,
I live again.
And again being born,
In the world I wander,
Catching scraps of old men's thoughts,
What of the realm
Eternity of the spiritual
Sense of complete.
The truth pierced the soul,
Listening to listen.
Do not talk,
And to live.
And do not scream,
And listening, silent
And the word of thought is dropped,
When the binder thread
From the heart and soul will break through.
And in a word he will answer the wise,
Short thought
Then only will be a birthday
We get
The joy of the greatness of the fathers.
In conce,
And I will understand in humility from sorrow,
That I'm at the beginning.
Having gone a long way his way somehow,
Just took a step,
And standing in front of the abyss on the threshold,
Ready, knocking down his legs,
And opening the soul of his path


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