What is seen is a picture,
Beautiful art and designs of creature;
Yet what is viewed are words,
Spoken out loud hand writing of the walls.
Old memories of gains and loss
Deep thoughts of anxiety, fear, courage and victory of works;
Art of memories that talks.
It is seen as a picture,
Yet louder than it's vision.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem