We listen daily to the sonic coins
provided every one of us and played
through the Finger-singer worn on the left hand.
We trade coins of diverse denominations:
and all of them play all that they contain
and though a dyma 1 scarcely weighs one grain
it plays out like a cricket on each hand
blanching here in this distraction-land.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poem with deep meaning. There is a price for everything in life. Thanks for sharing with me. Please read my poem 'Isthmus Of Pain And Joy'