an oil dropping in
a basin of water
i cannot jibe as
another usual sound
in this noisy
chatter
i want to be
a silent stone by
the river
but i cannot be this
every moment
till my death
and so i fly away like
that black bird from
your mouth
i hover upon
a rock on the side
of the cliff
feeling the clouds
drifting away....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem