The Poets
Seeing our eclipse
Through the window
We are
Victims of this urge
So richly engraved on our souls
That it plunges us
To our grave,
For we were
Dead before we died,
Alive after life
Flowing
Like the sky
To distance uncoth
To live this life.
We are
Seeds that rot
To a flowery tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very nice piece of work; and, keep on writing for people like us to read and learn from you too.Thanks. Edward Kofi Louis