Taoism Poem by Meng Lim Dr
Taoism
The hard part
is not doing
how people inch to act
they know no ceasing
myriad words they pour out
daily, - unending
bent only on
the same thinking
their minds too stimulated
never in silence, resting
other people's ideas
they can't stop picking
what has been taken in
is like leech sticking
on the skin- time rushes in compounding
what's left is but the death of meaning
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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7/18/2025 9:10:40 PM # 1.0.0
