A Craftsman Trader Poem by Ananta Madhavan
A Craftsman Trader
He waits for customers;
His high-boned face is flat,
His beads and trinkets dangle
In bright colours from the rafters
Of his make-shift shack.
The writer who has wares
Of verses and new tales,
Is also an acolyte of art.
Who will buy the beauties
Of fancy and imagination?
That man who waits for buyers:
Glint-less the beads of his eyes.
and writers who need the boost of acclaim from readers.
I was minded of this when on tour abroad in a town.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 12:54:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
