Sometimes signals, symbol of victory,
Sometimes bends to wipe tears for territory,
Wetting itself to make us happy,
Polluted some time due to creepy,
Hiding the quarrel behind as door screen
Also faces sunshine with reflecting harming beam
Healing cuts and pain, converting to handkerchief,
Covering eyes with warmth of our breath,
Sometimes a piece is enough to hide person’s modesty
Also meters not enough for intentional harlotry,
Acting sometime message of lover
Blossoming within the essence of flower,
It is really hard to describe or bluff,
How important really a piece of cloth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem