When I see the terracotta plates
Made from baked clay
And polished red
Or seeming to be
With figures and figurines,
Sculptures
At war, in love, relationship,
Depicted as motifs,
Myths and mysteries
Born out of passion,
I think it within,
Can my poetry match these sculptures
So beautiful and fitted into
The lime clay and small brick made structures
Of heritage temples?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem