Two knives
In knife rack sat two knives
Both of them very sharp
Black were in handles
Similar were blades.
But never
Never saw
Eye to eye till that day
Sat the two in the sink.
Both laid there
To be washed
So they talked
"Is this life cutleries' or just ours?
Is it same for people, animals?
What about pan and pot, plates, bowls? "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Is this life cutleries' or just ours? Is it same for people, animals? What about pan and pot, plates, bowls? Wonderful observation... and imagination how knives sit down and talk, simple fine. thank you dear poet. tony
Thank you my friend...thanks a lot...