The sea shells in the sea bed,
Let them be there still and contented,
The leftovers of life once lived,
The sea shells are barren and immobile.
...
I plead with you, sir, while you circle,
around my mother who is frightened, but not a coward,
When you carry me to greater height,
And put me on the branch of not velvet,
...
We are tinted with multiple colors of grey,
We are shaded with plentitude of strays,
We are wrapped with cold and wet clothes,
The creator is still good and He can do the magic.
...
the flowers bloom for me,
the wind blow for me,
the rivers run for me,
why I have to shun me?
...
People say millions read their poems,
but I felt dwarfed in front of them,
I read their poems sincerely day and night,
commented then and there how I felt.
...
In the ocean of passion,
Reason has little liaison,
Fish abound, blink and twinkle,
Splash at the face to bloom and spring,
...
who has painted your picture in my thoughts,
without a brush, the paints and the pallet,
not even sketched using a pencil and a knife,
the picture is perfect with the colors mixed,
...
The day the lightning struck my brain,
I could still remember the flashes in the mind,
The ground opened up for me to faint,
The thirst constricted the throat to find,
...
I pity the rainbow as it is not as colorful as you,
I scold the grass as it is not as soft as you,
I curse the clouds that is not as generous as you,
I shoot the sun as it is not as warm as you,
...
The world is such a small place,
Where I can't hide my face,
The Heart is such a big cave,
Where I can't fill all my love,
...