Before becoming a politician
I had a wish, an ambition
Like that of a child
Who saw the fields
Half covered half open
Weaker lights to understand
Life and education
Then poems were
To me breathing air
A space to ride
Poets my hero
The most intellectual
I wanted to be like them
But some one knitted my fate
Though the threads were mine
I become a politician
Now I deal with
Treacheries and lies
Seldom find time
For the inner intricacies of life
But all are before meeting
With a guest
A visitor from no where
But from my own life
Sneaks into my garden
And plays with me like a butterfly
Now I give more time to her
Than politics
But poets never
take me seriously
as they think
I am a politician
and politicians treat me
as Plato treated the poets
now it is time to see
how great is he the politician
and how he saves the flower
recently bloomed in his heart
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
he is not so great is he, the politician?