He stayed silent for a long time,
and then he realized
that all the words were unnecessary;
staying silent was an art too.
He could have remained silent for ages,
but when does the world let one stay silent?
When the world forced him,
he began to speak,
relentlessly, uncontrollably, a flood of words.
On every path, at every turn,
he kept speaking as he walked,
and now, even in his sleep,
he talks.
It seems
the walls of silence have shattered,
and the noise of words
has become a part of his being.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem