Few lines
From my head
Perfectly rhymed
Father said
It is not a poem
I changed course
Next few
I wrote
Without rhyme
Father said
It’s a prose
What’s makes a poem
I was in deep thought
And wrote on
Some truths
Like birth and death
‘’These smells
Like gospels
Poem is like foliage
Of your heart
Yellow
Falls on your page
With a sweet sound
Of music on the ground’’
He said.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
He shows a gentle and sage man. Erudite this deft hand and the beauty of this write of few words, but fine poetic expression.