My mind is a cartoon for the beasts
In their confidence, in their boredom.
Curious deaf children are collecting,
With contentment in their hearts.
To dislike is to embarrass the minds,
Liking the dependence of an anger.
Mind is folly, mind is full verse,
We have courage of the infinite,
Like the foes of their worry.
I have to see the archers roam
With tongues in the fears and sorrow.
My bakery is open to everybody.
The anniversary has arrived too much,
My artery is blessed by lipids,
Too much fat and misery has been told.
The butcher is a friend of the cuts,
The cuts are the woes of a bout,
There is no cutlery in this house.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very profound and enjoyable poem, Naveed.