They used still pens
Immersing in the ink bottle
Wrote the letters, drawn pictures
writing skills gained
The curves, lines, thickness beautiful
There I have seen an old still pen
Lying in the corner of a wardrobe
I kept it neatly and amazed
In the world of writing pens
An old man the still pen
He had seen the noble hearts
He had enjoyed the supports
He had seen the histories
The beautiful fingers of beauties
Longest periods it served
The still pen now as a monument
I remember a pointed iron pen
Those used in carving letters
In palm leaves to make horoscopes
In those time they were using leaves
The leaves of Palm in Kerala
The epics they wrote in beautiful writing
Wonderfully kept duly tagged in homes
Revered the books intact always
The basal leaves helped them to wipe out
The dusty articles and clean it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem