we write
beyond their frames of reference
we write because we have traveled so well
this journey of life
seemingly without end
so many things to see still
so many places to traverse
rivers to cross
skies to fly our hours
so many bridges of this world
so many black birds dissolving in fading afternoons
so many waves that sing of folding times
so many mountains gummed
so many sorrows and joys
kids begging on the streets
prostitutes strutting their bodies on long and lonely and hungry nights
so many decent men and women nonspeaking their ways
on airport halls
lots of sounds on the malls
sipping silences on private beaches
exclusive hotels
blending colors
mixed scents
intriguing dialogues
colliding bodies
salty sweat
cranky faces
all sorts, all sorts
of intricacies
and idiosyncrasies
a very interesting
world
indeed, indeed!
so many people with their mouths eager to tell
the stories of their lives
i walk, i listen, i keep my mouth shut
i write
we write because there are people who want their stories to be written
we are all ears now,
and fingers too
must you ask me when shall i stop?
let them all shut up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem