Look, the chair is growing every moment
Its blue blood runs in the heartless wood
Only its kins can engrave glory on this
Lesser blood can only wonder!
It never smiles before the humble hearts
Its heart never melts; it doesn't know how to melt
Its two handles have invisible power
One ruling the other
The chair shines in fading colours
It grew on those nodding smiles and false riches
It can only grow, it knows only to shine
And to meet its silent desires
The chair can make untouchable chairs stoop
And make them bow down to its vagaries
No word it hears, its stone-hard heart,
Only nod your head, if you meet this Chair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
stone-hard heart, good writing, I like it, thanks. please read my poems and say something.