It Will Not Be a Gem, by J. W. Cassandra

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Form, emanating into breath:
He kneaded its monkey image into a man;
Emanating into breath it is resplendent,
Monkey reason will not be a gem.

But if monkey becomes the man,
He will be born on a stone pile, bald,
His immortal being is peace:
Human existence of the monkey-form

Is dimension-organizing primordial power,
The moving cemetery for the secrets:
He keeps the secret tumbling: knower,
He pours it on you tumbling: runner,

Who on sand, on the spot, only walks,
That he is running he only imagines,
And if his life-time finally expires:
Fruit surrounds him on a rock with flowers:

His wit flares up last time: froth
On the hill of fruits and flowers,
His last somersault arch is mercy.
Breath: power – Breathing Monkey

Is a human being, in epoch he is power:
Form, emanating to breath;
His emanation is resplendent in existence,
His reason will not be, though: a gem.

Its brilliance is obscure, rolling rain.

Written: 10/12. 2013., J. W. Cassandra
Translated: 30/08. 2022., by J. W. Cassandra

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