The sculptor's chisel wakes up
Hitherto unknown image
From the stony silence
There arises a creation
Of a frozen state fluid memories
The image born of chisels pat deft stroke
Stands, casts a spell
On the passer by!
Who heaves a sigh?
Someone greeted the sculptor
The image emerging seemed to articulate
Am I not to be prayed?
Meanwhile chisel's note of melody
Pervaded in the air,
Cling the chisel doth sing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem