Nothing does matter,
I know or not but,
I go to any barber,
And get my hair cut.
I know not his name,
Nor he knows mine,
But every thing is good,
And every thing is fine.
He has full hold on me,
Having razer like knife,
Even can chop my head,
I may loose my life.
But i enjoy his touch,
Sometimes i day dream,
Come to my senses,
When he applies cream.
Can i confide in you?
Like i believe in my barber,
Only faith does matter,
No weapon no armour.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem