Brush
With head up was giraffe
Like a cock with crown was proud
Spoke as a parrot:
“Mohammad had no brush”
Insisted “A Muslim only lies, ”
In my heart I smiled:
“Be careful. Your word is your friend/enemy”
“Tell me of your friends I tell you who you are.”
Was it word of Rumi that I learned in Iran?
I meant to say a word; kept mouth shut.
But in heart:
“You’re blind. They used roots of trees not like ours, ”
Poor being has heard of vitamins; unaware of fruits and greens.
I’d agree with many if such blinds didn’t talk.
It is sad that they do. They do so much too much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem