I am a man
Not too young
But yet not became yellow
Many a summer
I have passed through
And my sack is full of experiences
Though my heart beat
Have slowed a bit
But still going and steadily pumping
How is it that I could not feel?
Still kind words stir my mind
And my heart moves with the pleasures of life.
The beauty of a flower still attracts me
And i find my nostrils to jump up
To smell the fragrance it emits
How is it that I couldn't write poetry
when my feelings
and emotions are still thriving?
I could write
Even putting back
The hand of the clock
I would move
To the backyard of my mind
And pluck fruits from the tress once I planted
Moving forward isn't the only movement
Backward traveling is also
A profound journey
I reach to the island where
I spent my youth
And make alive the past
The past is now
As fresh as of my present
I am again young
Moving around
Proposing the girls
To swim with me in my dreams
The warmth of the sun is
Rousing my super active senses
Beyond their brims
Poetry must be attentive to me
Too handsome a man I am
With all the fascinating memories
Nothing should constrain them
To fall in love with me
If I lack anything they are the words
But words don't constitute my soul
I wear them like cosmetics
Beyond them feel me the real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem