the paper is empty, the pen out of ink, the idea is tired, so the artist puts it to sleep, then the writer pulls his hands away, and weeps
sounds like a temporary case of writers block, no doubt fresh ideas and words will flow when u dry your eyes and get some sleep ........and this was an ecellent poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this one very much