My lucid words are called my poems
They are my words dressed in kaba or suit
They are shade on a travelers path
And liquor that suffice thirst
They are dirges of gloomy hearts
And melodies of inspired spirits
They tell known tales
And expose hidden secrets
They are son to the barren
Hand to the fallen
And life to the dying
My poems are nothing
But praise to the Lord my king
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem