A room of infinite corners is the mind,
And every corner chased
Is an adventure born anew.
The roads ahead sparkled and grow,
Non is narrow nor straight.
Everything means something,
And something means everything…
And when the endless road reaches a gate,
The world unravels more corners await,
To be clustered in the mind corners' queue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An amazing poem, nicely penned thoughts. Human mind is a mystery and its every cluster is a world itself.