He waits for customers
For his hand-crafted trinkets
And ornaments, chains;
His high-boned face is flat,
His beads dangle brightly
From the rafters of his shack.
Glint-less, the beads of his eyes.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem and the poet's note touch me. 'He waits for customers For his handcrafted trinkets - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His beads dangle brightly From the rafters of his shack - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Glintless, his beads of his eyes. Every writer wishes that his poems be read and appreciated.Like valuable gems lying under the layers of earth being undiscovered by men, many poetic gems may remain hidden unless it is discovered by readers.This happens with every poet, every writer.Thank you for sharing a beautiful poem.