The poetry of a blind man
Is not metered
In contrast hue or color
It is textured
In smell
In sound
In feel
A light finger upon the breast of a lover
An epic is forged
On the shallow breath
Of a tender sigh
Of his unseen lover
And verses fall like rain
I second Sonya's 'wow'- that such a deceptively simple thing can cut straight to the heart of the matter and leave you in complete awe; wow is the only thing comes to mind, truly..(smile)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love- incessant stream of verse river, crystal water falling verse and spreading over all the world blindly!