I am not a modrn, a modernist and a post-modernist,
I am the same man,
The same man
Whom you had seen me,
Who had been before you,
Is still before you.
You just try to see me and you will come to recognize me
As I am the same person,
Changed in time, changed in circumstances,
Otherwise am not so
As am the same man
You are failing to recognize me.
You take off your specs, I mean the stylistic goggles
And try to see me,
Into the face of mine and its wrinkles
Which the age has given
As a memento or a relic,
Yea, a souvenir of time,
Then you will, you will me
Who am I.
I am not a modn, a modnist or a post-modn,
I am I am, what I was,
I am not what see you, take me for,
What look I in my apparel and designing
And that the plan of a beautician,
To keep me look modern,
Whatever call you,
But internally am I not so, I am the same man
You are on the look out,
The same man of heart,
The same man of principle and philosophy,
Plain living and high thinking,
You just erred, sir, in taking me for
A modern, a modernist or a post-modern,
Which am I not,
Never was I anytime, anywhere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.