On a tranquil summer day,
I am following the wavy fibres
Of burning oriental bakhoor
How they loosen their atomic limits
Into a playful scene,
An unprepared tango of relaxation.
This aromatic, enigmatic smoke,
Lets go of any rigid corner,
It blends unconsciously
With the bubbles of fizzy air,
Whispering them a lullaby.
I feel as if smoke teaches
A lesson of fraternising with all
That encounters,
Just as the brush of an artist
Touches the canvas in every place
Inserting its moist presence in plasma and shades
Than disappearing,
Being absorbed by his own work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sort of philosophical poem. I feel as if smoke teaches A lesson of fraternising with all That encounters, Just as the brush of an artist Touches the canvas in every place... is so beautiful. Enjoyed the aroma coming out of your ink.