A time when even the gods are absent,
not even shadows of living things exist,
not even the smell of death is ascending,
a summer afternoon of deep prostration.
From a congested area,
tearing off cloudlike things,
inundating things of stickiness,
at a place completely deserted
there is a thing that originates.
There is a thing that suggests a life,
polished by dust and light
one single egg that is occupying the grand earth.
(Minoru Yoshioka)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Life Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Place Poems, Summer PoemsBased on Keywords: cloudlike, prostration, occupying, originates, congested, stickiness, inundating