In shapes of oval and square, these stones
colored brown and beige in despair
they hold the times taut inside, and groans
on infinite epoch of solitaire
Their voices shushed in pointed times
as bits of earth meander in unknown
grey lanes, longing to settle, it climbs
but washed away downstream or alone
gets drowned in dark blue sea of tempest
With fear of being hard-stoned in destiny
they stack on one another, shoving the rest
down and down, till it forms a rock’s chest quietly
True wisdom like rock a layer on layer
it shines in life’s struggles and affairs
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem