'Poetry to me is pretending
it is far from reality
you create thoughts
in your secluded room
that's good for you
things that make you happy
events that are not true
with lots of words so flowery
in your world of privacy
that's far from truth and reality
it's pretending you are brilliant
intelligent and smart
but the truth is
it's the other way around
but what is good in poetry
if you write from the heart
it's like a water in a stream
that flows naturally
oftentimes you need to take a walk
to take your mind off things
for there is something
unexplained inside you
a thrill or excitement
you cannot control
call it a talent or whatever
but sometimes
it makes your life miserable
that you want to punished yourself
by wine to extinction
with mood swings
now and then
this is what I feel and mean
and this is poetry to me
as of this writing.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem