In a room where there are mirrors on all sides,
my head below a mirror,
and my shoes on a mirror,
looking at my infinite images
I can see myself as I am looking at someone else.
Now I know what I am.
Stupid!
Earlier I saw myself in a single mirror.
So what if I was a stupid!
At least I didn't look like a fundamentalist,
not like a religious extremist,
not like a terrorist.
Simply plainly an innocent stupid
who when saw himself in a single mirror
thought that he is a lovely handsome man.
I am going back to the room
where there is a single mirror.
I love that innocent stupid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An impressive and thoughtful poem..................................................