I have no script or a book,
To copy down to the brook,
To run over all those minds,
Squeezing the subtle thoughts,
Rolling of the wet muse,
Simmering the wild ideas,
As the raw is bad and tasteless,
Frying in the fat less oil to be crispy,
Healthy salads of adjectives,
Sauce made of rebellious chilies,
Mixed with neutral salt and sweetly,
Sugar to be tasty, lemon of vitamin C,
Garnishing has to be done,
To be more attractive to the eyes,
What is tasted well in the mouth,
Will be validated in the brain,
To go for it again and again.
Good one! Did you forget some 'tarka' with butter! ! ! ! ! ! So much fun to read this light hearted poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You cook a poem well Veeraiyah, the rolling of a wet muse, Simmering the wild ideas, all good.