Here I am stuck in my own heart
which is a prism, a rainbow prism.
Sometimes it's plastic, other times it's crystal
And other times it's made up of diamond.
And finally other times it's made up of
Water.
The droplets shine.
My tears shine and the sunlight shines
through them.
So they console me because they produce colors.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Poet, A very poignant observation. It is the prism of our heart that enables us to all the colours of the universe. That makes our life so colourful. Our capacity of imagination. Devoid of this prism, we may lose all colours of life, face a monohuistic world. But getting stuck in once own heart is a unique experience.