If you would but open the door of your mind,
and let it's contents spill out onto paper,
piece by piece,
then and only then,
would truth abound unmercifully,
and passion so unmasked.
It is then that a simple piece of paper
turns into an elaborate mirror,
reflecting the true image of your soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem