- Sabina 'Sindhu'
The ink bottle, it was empty.
The Pen, it wanted to swallow ink
The ink and the pen
both were empty.
The empty bottle knew nothing
The pen, it was thinking to write
But it thought,
How to write and how to express?
Sometimes we are that empty ink bottle. And yet, at other times we are the pen. And when the pen is full such wonderful poems flow.......what a great analogy for us on this site. A very simple poem with such meaning.... Love, Fran xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a lovely, original poem. Loved the image of the ink bottle and pen with their needs, each unable to fill the others.