In my hand you sit
You whisper thoughts in my ear
“Write about love,
Hate,
Envy,
Or fear.”
Faithful and fluent
In the language of my soul
You take the thoughts in my mind
And change,
Mold,
Twist,
And make them flow.
Now I look at my paper
Covered with your sweat and blood
Oh pen,
My facet,
My extension,
My favored utensil,
My love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem