Something not volatile as the moon,
Plays only hide and seek after none,
Hidden completely behind the platoon,
Shades and lights may make one, to lose and win.
Fragrance shows the presence of flowers,
When we are in the garden, scents of parlors,
Not different from the natural, the distillers,
Are everywhere, differentiate the thrillers.
The wings are pressed neatly to the buttons,
Filled in the cartons, pressurized in the cans,
Laborious chemicals tickle the lean necks,
Hardened silicon lumps too colorful to mock.
The body full of springs, abused and unattended,
Enough supply of elixir, neglected and not utilized,
When the romance is bottled in the capsule mind,
Our body of love is untrained and the solace unfound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem