his strokes of walking are,
exact and measured
like mathematical sum of one
plus one
his hand doles out from east to west
north and down south
without a droplet of sweat
raining from his brow
and he steps back smiling
when his heart and soul
reclines to slumber and to glow
again and again and again
to eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem