What an enigma the ways of my character are!
Sometimes I start crying and sometimes go on laughing
Sometimes I travel indifferently from one corner to other
What illusions force me, I fail to understand.
A very deep attachment with my small mirror
I could not throw it out and it is always with me
It has deep layers of dirt because of misuse of many years
And I couldn't see my impression, that only disturbs me.
I know the technique to wash away my outer body
I use so many cosmetics, perfume to look me more smart
But I repeatedly try to clean the inner mirror to have my own image.
What a tragedy, my every attempt fails.
Whenever I stare at my mirror, I find dark blurred graffitis
Sometimes carelessly I keep on dirting on it again
But to know the technique of cleaning is very difficult
Always I deeply and silently cry not being able to see my own image.
I am very much eager to purify the mirror like a crystal
Before leaving for another country with this mirror
At least once I like to see my own image with own eyes
Alas, if any wise man can come forward to teach me the technique!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mirror stands in mind and gives reflection of own image. Wonderful sharing.10