THERE WAS A TIME/ WHEN POETRY WAS THE POET’S ONLY LIFE
There was a time
When Poetry was the Poet’s only life-
All that was in his experience
Had its meaning
Only as Poetry.
But when he began to understand
‘Poetry’ had primarily become a ‘means’
For his own Greed and Ego.
Poetry was lost.
But as he was a Poet in his soul,
He and his life too were also lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
OK, what's your point? I ask because you write cryptic and obscure verse, Shalom. There's in the rulebook of poetry that says you must not be clear in your writing!