To make a pebble rounded
it has-to-be crushed
pounded and carved
there is nothing tender
about it, it must be
tipped on its head
up-ended out of bed
turned in every which way
it doesn't want to go
some may think it crudely
but others shall behold it?
Behold its beauty, logically
knowing it's as rounded-
as anything - and possibly
it will roll with all the punches
of this world until the next
there returned to the sediment
the bedrock of home.
Turned in every which-way It doesn't want to go.. Yes, it remains in the heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To make a pebble rounded It has to be crushed Pounded and carved There is nothing tender About it, it must be Tipped on its head- - - - -Hardships and obstacles make us refined.A wonderful write, thanks for sharing.