Weightless

It was a starlit, hot summer's evening,

The sky was vibrating.

I was taken care of by the sickle-lit moon,

The problem was far from this world.

The brain is no longer feverish,

Good and bad thoughts leave me alone.

Bone, cartilage, nerve, flesh, tendon and muscle

It rests, rests until I move on.

I no longer act, I leave,

I am going to take the excess off myself.

I enjoy being silent,

I'm just breathing soundlessly.

Creeping down to settle down at night,

The stolen silence of my quiet world.

The soul is pushed beyond the body,

I found my inner self in its Order.

Szép Robert XII. H