Poetry is not only dreams,
Fancy and imagination,
Colour and romance,
But realism, realistic details too,
For it ask you the sweepers and cleaners,
The dressers and compounders
And nurses,
Poetry not only celestial and heavenly,
But real too, down to earthly realities,
It looks beautiful to float on the waters,
But when the paper boats sink they,
The shipwreck brothers tell the tales.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem