Whose idea was love?
To which they smiled, thinking high
Considering no faults, thinking on the blithe
But now today
Love is confusion, technology and religion
A turbid, miry painting among surrealism.
What pain is this
To find joy
Straying alone on the desolate world
Searching for what one has designed
For which logic is here to remind
Who needs rhetorical questions?
They strike a pose
In the history of your memory
Standing astute, unruly reflection
Astute to the happenings of the world
A noticing eye, a clean lens to incidents
Sharp logic, splitting and arranging like a knife
Giving advice after seeing intense intents.
Two exalted minds bear fruit
One wise and quiet
The other advising, and not as mute.
We can notice what occurs
In this place, the world,
But depending on raising
Will our voices be heard?
Whose idea was love?
To which they smiled, thinking high
Saami