I am a Poet
With no boundary;
From all focal line of life,
My psyche glance like
A professor going through
His lecture plan.
When the day is done like
The urgent food in an event;
Every strata in this nearest
World ponder in my cranium,
Just as succulent leaves of tree,
My thought grow fresh.
If not for good;
I would say I have gone
Off head;
Like the young mad boy
Touring the street day and
Night.
I am a Poet with no
Boundary;
Young lard spinning like the
Earth; around ups and downs
Of our dynamic world,
Ever changing for no good! .
I have rose with flaming
Ink I hold in my fingers;
With my deepened mood
Roasting out empathy
And sympathy for humanity.
I am a Poet with
No boundary;
Life with its swaying blade
Has drawn my feelings,
My excitement and displeasure! .
My poetry is no fluke nor
Fever;
It is real as my humble self,
Pure like the early morning
Palm wine,
Ready for drinking for both
High and low pockets;
For now,
Whenever,
And whenever comes the
Need to hear the sound of
Comfort.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem