A POEM SHOULD NOT BE WRITTEN-WHEN ONE IS WAITING FOR A BUS
A poem should not be written
When one is waiting for a bus
And simply trying to pass the time.
It should be written in solitude
After deep reflection
Ripeness as all
The falling fruit-
But this poem
Knows no ‘should’-
Knows only the long desperation
Of the happy holiday day-
Writing the words down quietly-
As if anything and everything I have to say
Is really
The poem I have religiously long waited for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem