The explorer draws his map
and plunges into space.
Why should he stumble on
at every fresh mishap
and draw back in blank surprise
as the landscape he has created
is revealed before his eyes?
Having nailed his mirror
in its place
firmly to the wall,
why the sudden tremor
at the sight of his own face?
Why the sudden terror
at the horror of it all?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
short but loaded with meaning...Great! keep up ur poems made nice reading...excellent composition...i loved reading ur poem..plz read my poem I AM A PROLETARIAT and leave a comment plz