To be or not to be
Ecstatic crows fly
To feed themselves
And their young ones,
And to build houses,
In this blue misty morning.
Deep under oceans
Crabs and whales
With their young ones
Kill, eat, feed and play
As their ancestors did.
Serpents in the deserts
Take their crooked ways
To catch or bite or kill
Being faithful to their duties,
Even the wicked serpents.
But where am I
In this sweet sore morning?
What to do? Where to go?
To be or not to be?
My mind is humane, painful!
J T Jayasingh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful poem... The last question... poet being humane why painful.... be or not to be whatever may be there evolved a great poem congrats regards sandhya