the popularity of the sun
that comes day to day is not the issue for now
it is the light that it carries
feeding the leaves that
feed the cows that feed us too
it is not even beauty
that golden sheen of its hands that reach upon the
breasts of the hills
the thighs of the plains
the lips of the waves of the seas
it is the food that matters
the survival of all who rely on the satisfaction of every hunger
it is not which
came first the egg or the chicken
it is that which satisfies the hunger of each stomach
that matters for now
never shall you write about
a sunset
or a sunrise
it is the frying pan and the oil
the egg
sunny side up and the fork and the plate
how long has this been
that you have become another selfish pragmatist?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very good poetry, i like it........