The Waiting For The Godot.
It was an uncertain wait,
Anguish set boiling vase,
It denied history, defied geography,
It forwarded its tears through poetry.
It was supernatural cult for mystic legacy.
Habit on oath,
Mind and body both,
Surge of the urge,
To wash off death and birth,
More of Heaven and seas seven,
It is the grotesque from Unified-field!
Lingering line from possessed-Will,
It comes as the Initiation to break the seal,
To be non-conducted by touching conductor.
Ah! Godot be availed,
Echoing abstract sounds the bell,
Lo! in the soul's sky, the Soul sails,
No certitude! But Godot be availed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Anything may be the case but it forwarded the tears through poetry is our subject of concern Loved reading it