A kid asked me.
“For whom do you write!
Is it for a woman? Oh my,
She must feel really
Overwhelmed and flattered! ”
Or
“Is it for your god?
Oh my, then your god
Must have been relishing
With this whole prolix garden of
Flattery and frankness! ”
NO.
NO.
I don’t write for anybody.
I write about love
Because love deserves a piece
A poem,
A city.
But I don’t want love.
I write about anything,
Anyone.
There’s a fine line
Between shooting a gun
Towards the blank sky
Out of fun
And
Shooting a gun
Towards your head,
Or someone else’s
Out of anger and terror.
I write for no one.
Not even for myself.
I’m a mad man,
A maniac behind
A typewriter.
I WRITE FOR NO ONE.
When he asked me,
I felt my heart,
Laughing
And dancing.
All of you
Are wrong.
I write for no one.
ABOUT NO ONE.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem