When pain first stole my morning walk, crippled limb and mind
All I could think was what I'd lost, how fate was so unkind
Then like a sunbeam in my heart, cutting through the gloom
a spark became a beacon, and poetry began to bloom
So now I run to greet the dawn, I soar through endless skies
All the mysteries of time and space, revealed before my eyes
The pain that ate me up, made me so miserable and terse
is now lost against the splendour of the poetic universe
My words can paint a panorama, full of colour, fire and life
An antidote to realities, to our modern, soul-less strife
Lift spirits on clouds of laughter, light fires in your heart
Bring the strongest to their knees, or break a world apart
Paint spots dropped on canvas, seeds in a forest glade
Rewriting our conceptions, feather becoming blade
Poetry spreads and merges, ever brings a different hue
So open up your heart, and let its magic flow right through
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Disability gives pain. This gives crippled mind and limb and such activity provokes thought entirely. Rain stops in dropped canvas. Rewriting our conceptions, feather becoming blade. Brilliant and amazingly presented poem this is.10