An unborn poem
Is perhaps a poetic reverie.
Sure it is, but I must say
Another poem
Has been conceived by me
It is yet to be penned down though.
It needs a pen that will never dry up
And the readers who will turn grey haired never.
Sure it is, and I must say
Within me living on
Is a poem superseding many others
Yet unborn after conception!
Certain poems are so, dear ones.
Between their conception and birth often
Scores of months entwine us the mothers to-be.
An unborn poem never dies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very tender thoughts of an unborn poem, just like those of an unborn child, your baby to be one day. A very good description of a poem in mind waiting to be written out and born. Like it very much Dinesh! ! RoseAnn