Incessantly
Poetry flows
Like the waves
Of a river
And that of a sea
Or that of an ocean.
How many waves?
Impossible to count.
No one can calculate
The number of poetry
Anywhere at any time.
And poetry is there
Even after this life,
Even after death.
In so many words,
Even without words,
Poetry flows,
In so many forms,
In so many colors,
In so many places,
For so many purposes.
If one goes and
Try to understand-
Poetry is useless.
But poetry is there
To enjoy.
Enjoy poetry,
Feel poetry,
Live poetry,
That is there with you.
Poetry is the only truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem