I pulled a paper,
wrote some words on it.
Some words.
Letters looked shiny and
sharp as the ink dried.
Days passed and the
ink began to fade.
Still faint words,
readable!
More days passed.
The paper turned
yellowish and letters
nearly vanished.
Soon paper's brittle corners,
the center fold was torn,
now it's too delicate to handle.
I forgot what I wrote...
I forgot the paper on which
I had written some words.
Am confused.
Was it a past or
I had written nothing
on no paper...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem