A poet tells a little bit
A lot is left to be felt
Layers of the meanings
Inherently lie bare there
When abstract words
Are unclothed and melted
Right out of the naught
Sought and well-caught
In his cognitive cocoon
Only a part is wrought
And the whole is thought
In the realm of poetry...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem