What makes a poet want to write?
Poems we hope will hold on tight,
Made out of flowers that may bloom,
Somewhere in someone's hidden room,
Bringing some light,
To Life's gray gloom.
Poetry seems to be so right,
To shed a tear,
Or smile a smile,
While chasing Moonlight,
For a while.
That's why a poet has to write,
Hoping one day to set things right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How sweet and affirming that poems can reach someone's hidden room. I sense a person who is alienated, cut off and afraid to re-make contact with the world. And then a little piece of that scary world enters her closed-off space, she reads the poem for what it is - an invitation to return. Upon returning to the world, she can join the chase for moonlight - a purely gratuitous expression of joy. The last two lines about poetry helping to heal the open wounds - if only more people would summon us poets - we will readily help, right?