I write no poetry
I sing no prose
I simply quack
Like balcony crows
I was divine
I am born a fool
I am ascetic
Know not my school!
I crave freedom
Slave of desires
My clay mold
Me backfires
In utter confusion
I make noise
Foolishly play with
Perishable toys
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for this lovely little poem. Pleasure to read and leading one to introspect for self-realisation: I am born a fool / I crave freedom / Slave of desires