Snapshots of moments, that's what poems are.
Some people are keener of the camera.
'I am a camera'. Think of a person
Whose head is a camera, adjusting his ear-knobs.
A poem is a tone of voice that is heard.
The poet is a ventriloquist;
Listen to the tone and the timbre.
Another thought: a poem is like a tree
With trunk, roots, branches, leaves
And its own peculiar identity.
A poem has two lives and many deaths:
First, what it is born with,
Outlasting its coffin in a lost notebook
Or an untouched book.
The second life is public,
The life breathed into it when read by someone
Who is also a poet.
We too have secret and public lives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks for this wonderful poem on the craft of writing a poem. The concluding lines lead us to a fantastic two pronged theory of fate of a poem, one- its burial and two- its acclaim as you have rightly said: Outlasting its coffin in a lost notebook /..... / The life breathed into it when read by someone.