First listen to your heart.
No poetry will walk tonight―
without fear.
Sometimes you will find―
words will not descend/to heal
your ache of unslept poems. Hovering/
like the obsessive hawks.
The migratory, adjutant/
storks, had not come to roost
on the tall tree―
naked as they are.
Democracy always/sends
erotica/to take off your mind
from the trivial subjects.
Fireworks resume the celebrations
for the fugitive/who returned
home after drinking absinthe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very beautiful poem, i enjoyed reading the poem, well-write, thanks for sharing, if you find time please read some of my poems and leave your comments.