I sow the words in the paper,
Almost everyday,
I know that like the real tree,
The words shall bear fruits later!
Maybe shortly, maybe thousands of years after that,
If history does evoke my ardour,
If history does bestow me with special nobility,
In the next world, celestial peace my soul shall get.
Extremely beholden I am to my brain as well,
Without which I could hardly write and tell!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very wise and interesting humor is expressed in this poem. Sowing words in land of paper is definitely wise to harvest knowledge. Amazing.10
A very wonderful comment from you once again. Thank you so much.