the poet's words lay
dried-up in a book
untouched, unsung
how he wished he had the power
to give music to the song
the unheard symphony
that pounded on the strings
of his heart
no fingers to key
the silent instrument
that refused to be mastered.
(Previously published in Poetfest Anthology, Summer 2000)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem