If tomorrow become a clay soil,
Transforming into a porter, eye
Would make a wonderful mould of it,
So magnificent atop Everest, all eyes will
Behold as emerald...
Would future be clay!
The best porter in town will
Beckon his friend, the Glass-man
To prepare a ceremonial pack
To contain the Porters’ piece,
The Eagle of the air will be summoned
As a carrier of the porter’s’ in a
Glass-man’s pack for all to adore
As displayed.
The cheerfulness of the trio
Will fetch the mat of hospitality
And all will sit and be served from
The porter’s piece, the wine
Of life that give hearts’ desire,
Good or Evil.
©1999
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem