A stream flowing through the desert,
Too scarce for its dwellers to see
Though refreshing it is,
Thirsty souls it cant ease.
For the souls around it, it is a mediocre,
Not many have found it, nor a tired walker.
While triying to find it, many have sailed,
With failure to see it, they've wailed.
While trying to find it, many have groaned,
In vain, spending everything they loaned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is definitely a good poem. An insightful and well articulated SIMILE employed to drive home the point. As the saying goes, a prophet is never duly recognized in his place of nativity. Lovely. Thanks for sharing.