I aver that i am not a poet
Scribbling poetry is my avid interest.
I am in the side of obscurity
Which adheres on me being abdurate.
I will, I will
My thoughts and mind are in chaos thoroughly
Which i am force to believe the charade frantically.
I have to shindy my own incur
Aargh! ! Which has stamped indelibly
I do know-nothing about it, I will I will.
Though i am not adept, i havent yet averse
Neither i am a earl, nor excel at anythings
Which i ignite myself andhence felt ignominious
Which was my road to damascus
Showing gallentry, when i was sending to gallows.
I will continue(my Journey) till the bell rung
To abet my pain for opposing the heaven.
Which they are the poet, i am already dead
Where i was damned there
I may shroud once again, where i can touch the shrine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem