A poet must write wisdom
should he was born and
trampled on feet across
sweet thorn fields
If a poet come across
frivolous of women or
promiscuous mistress
When he feels worthless
and formless
When tears and despair outweigh
his soul
Should he be lonely like wise
Should he turn bitter and useless
When he starts and ends relations
should he stuck in the woods with
wolves
Should he had planted wheat and reap weeds
Those are the exact times in the poet's life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem