Gymnosophia XXXII - Same Campfire

Same campfire,
different night,
all will be revealed
by this fire's light.

We'll talk through the night,
and into the morning,
but only some
will heed the warning.

On the dharma-field
you will know yourself,
and in that light,
the rest will fade.

Gymnosophia XXXI - I Can Imagine Myself

I can imagine myself
by campfire light
speaking a warning
on a danger-filled night.

Who would listen,
then or now?
Our comfort's become
a sacred cow.

But some day,
or maybe night,
you and I
will have to fight.

Whether in the soul
or on the Kuru-field,
mighty weapons
we must wield.

gesvase udohiyuhi / ꭸꮢꭰꮞ ꭴꮩꭿᏻꭿ (anetlvtanvhi gvdodi) +en, ptl, es, fr, eo

gesvase udohiyuhi digoweli dikanohelvsgi, iyuno yeliquase gesvi anetlvdita?

ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᎤᏙᎯᏳᎯ ᏗᎪᏪᎵ ᏗᎧᏃᎮᎸᏍᎩ, ᎢᏳᏃ ᏰᎵᏆᏎ ᎨᏒᎢ ᎠᏁᏢᏗᏔ?


[English]

Is it really poetry, if it can be translated?


[portunhol surenho]

É realmente poesia, se pode ser traduzida?


[español]

¿Es realmente poesía, si se puede traducir?


[français]

Est-ce vraiment de la poésie, si peut être traduit?


[esperanto]

Ĉu vere estas poezio, se ĝi povas esti tradukita?

Tiferes and Toofers Look the Same in Your Danged Speed-writing

Tiferes and toofers look the same
in your danged speed-writing.

What is this thing
we call a "mind,"
and do we ever
just leave it behind?
Perhaps I'm bereft
of what's called sense,
nothing is left,
but I'm still a mensch.
Casting about,
I peruse the sky,
the train has pulled out,
and so have I.