This is the area,
This area is ours,
Area of poetry-
Our breath, our smell.
We breathe poetry,
What you said
Is right, my brother.
Bother not,
Poetry is here
With us always.
Making noise is
Not wise, my dear,
Love-life, sweet
To chatter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem