There will come a time when
the sound of poetry
and literature
be as gentle as a feather
to me
of not just a memory of
Dirt, Mud or Flood
that makes me want to write
poetry.
Because poetry is all about
Beauty.
Of not just a memory of
Dirt, Mud or Flood
that makes my mind wet
and slippery.
But when I see The World
ruled by computers
and not metaphors
which are the impurities in my mind
ruled by dimes
and not by rhymes
Will I stay firm like a bamboo
amidst the black tornado?
Therefore it is really
Dirt, Mud or Flood
that makes me want to write
Poetry and
sure, Beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem