do not go into the business
of asking, ‘how do i look? '
your dress, though gorgeous in
the sight of a foe feigning friendship,
may be shabby in the
sight of those folks drunk with
that wine that is poetry.
their eyes have seen worse images
and spirits as words on pages.
do not look in the
mirror to check what you wear,
how nice it fits, how stretched they appear,
how the colors blend or how necks would
break as you walk the busy streets;
look in the mirror to see your eyes
looking back at you,
your nose smelling your true self
and your ears hearing your mind's whispers.
take heed to the whispers of your heart.
too many false selves hide in the noise
in the streets, the loud lounge music and that tot of liquor.
bind them if you please, and cast them to the devil's dungeon-crawl
there's a better place to be than hell.
do not look in the mirror
to check what you wear,
look in the mirror to find your true self
hidden in that whisper that is you
and no one else.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To me the rarest of the rare words selected by you for the poem are the real pearls whose value will increase with each passing day. This is an exercise of self-improvement. Thanks.