it's dancing stars....................................................................................... on shakespeare's shoulders................................................................... across all tired rivers................................................................................ and distant oceans.................................................................................... at this very gracious moment.................................................................... the moment of ink....................................................................................... whispering to you....................................................................................... to your shining minds.................................................................................. and widely_opened hearts......................................................................... o men of poem hunter................................................................................ listen to him, he is sick................................................................................. he needs you.
Before i come to world of poetry i never think what is real meaning of poetry...but when i go tried to step on this, i feel a poet sometimes belong to philosophical area...When i read your poem, it reflect how the poem really a voice to sound...a hidden mind to bound and the lesson we will find :) ...Khaled, it was good poem :) _Unwritten Soul
Before i come to world of poetry i never think what is real meaning of poetry...but when i go tried to step on this, i feel a poet sometimes belong to philosophical area...When i read your poem, it reflect how the poem really a voice to sound...a hidden mind to bound and the lesson we will find :) ...Khaled, it was good poem :) _Unwritten Soul
Every time I wake up I think the purpose of my life.but sometimes I say Great men and great philosophers are not yet gone, they are still here with us. and you are one of them.We are listening to him and he is not sick he is ill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Philosophical..i like the style with dotted lines.....sickness in life is also dotted lines from work and then people understands the need and who pays heed to such need is human...Shakespeare died long back and was rich enough to declare that he did not need someone when he was blessed with rich estate..its sad stars like dusts are now falling on his shoulders....very deep connotations inside...