I praise you in the midst of a troubled epoch.
While praising conjures upon loving.
And loving settles upon thirst.
I praise you in the midst
of an agitated population.
Where you sit on a stool of devotion.
And I dream on a bed
of sentimental pollution.
I praise you in the midst
of a distressed circle.
When we go round,
spinning in a fitted constipation.
And we pound hard.
But we spin harder
than pounding hard.
As if the spinning beats the hurting.
As if I hurt you
with a visionary thinking.
Not as if you pain me
with a tainted stare.
Not as if you
eradicate my belief.
Not as if you
were all the waterfalls
that made me roar.
Visionary thinking is wise and hurting is really very painful. This is an amazing poem that expresses love with anger.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great start with a nice poem, Kirila. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks