He sits, he thinks, he writes
His flows go by and by
From odd odes he rallies by
And loves the ritual in his rites
He sees, he hums, he writes
His mind at work all day
From allegory his elegy plays
And loves the pun which he writes
He stands, he perceives, he writes
His flow from nature comes along
From sarcasms his sarcasm plays along
And loves the flow of all his might
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem