The feel of the senses relies
On the thoughts of the mind.
In the sense; what we feel
……………….. Is what we think.
Whilst here is a feel
I haven’t thought of…yet I feel.
I feel embarrassed with
The suffocation of low spirits
As if to some psychic evils
I succumb my spirited zeal.
It’s a momentous mood, which
Mellows down inward
And some sort of fever starts shivering
The stoic senses- when’st spoken.
The mind first feels and later thinks
And I suppose I think on what I feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem