The passion of nothingness,  
the mad convulsion of the first kiss, 
the fleece touch of making love, 
the chaos of peace, 
the stillness of war. 
We the children of Rousseau
born to perfect reason, 
or 
Voltaire’s progeny 
inspired to this Romantic season, 
or C.S. Lewis teaching us
 to kill
Freud with a slip;  
Does this all lead to 
far and near  
a pause and 
a spin, 
like Jesus under a fig tree, 
or Buddha dying for selfless love.
Life contradicts itself 
then finds the parallel 
scales of reason—  
through it all 
as young men die 
and veterans are made immortal—  
our light does spark 
and meets the raven, 
as we put pad to pen. 
Inspired. 
Yet, perhaps as innocent 
as treason.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
Awesome work. Great sentiments with nice style. Great write indeed. I rate it 10. TFS. Please read and rate my poem 'A daring hope' on page 1.