He Who Knows Nothing, Feels Everything
He Who Knows Nothing, Feels Everything
By Rado Gatchalian
In the shadow I hear my soul
creeping like a ghost
whose beginning is from the end;
If I shall surrender to darkness —
am i still worthy to shine,
though flickering,
in the universe?
How can the masterpiece
complete the cycle
of birth and death
when all that is required
is a small shining stone
in a delicate piece called heart?
But how shall I accomplish
any merit
when all that is required
is a losing self whose purpose
is only to find?
As the elders of generation
from ancient to modern:
there is only one wisdom possessed —
he who knows nothing, feels everything.
More than everything
is nothing.
For me to see is to open and close
and open again
the gate where the entry is to depart.
