Poetry, what a unique beast of heart!
Proxy words, nor surrogates to replace,
Seamless when they fit with whole work of art,
Wilt one and wound her weary soul, her grace,
Change a comma, syllable to the least,
And poor beast goes breathless body and soul,
Tease it, nor tinker this touch-me-not beast,
A lady frail, she's temperamental.
Teacher art thou— training poetic pen?
Pray paraphrase her not in so much pain,
A pompous prose might try much as it can,
It gets none her soul, sheer body and brain.
Nor ever try a poem to translate,
Try and see if you can it recreate.
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Sonnets | 02.08.08 |
this so interesting line-Poetry, what a unique beast of heart! / Poetry- beast of HEART! /// enjoyed I your poem // O' Poetry you're beauty of heart even you are ebony, truly I said, no flirt......///
Thank you Mahtab. This poem of mine was there on PH for nearly five years, Today I gave it a rebirth and you noticed it first.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem is a touch-me-not beast. Avoid tinkering unnecessarily, - - - - I agree with you! When I edit a poem, it seems I take its driving throbbing heart away. Sometimes smooth is just another term for flat. Well done discussion of the perils of tinkering.
Thank you Susan Williams