To be a poet – is the same
As when by truth of life
You scar your own tender flesh,
And with the blood of feelings
Caress the souls of others.
To be a poet – to sing freedom,
As you know it best
The song of nightingale doesn’t hurt him -
His song is always the same.
Canary mimicking someone’s voice -
Pitiful and silly bauble
World needs real songs – so sing like only you can
Even if you sound like a frog.
Mohammed has overdone it in Quran
When he forbade strong drink
That is why the poet will not stop
Drinking wine before he goes to the torture
And when a poet goes to his lover,
And finds her lying with another
He, kept by life-sustaining liquid,
Won’t send a knife into her heart.
But, burning up with jealous recklessness,
Will whistle on the way back home
“So what, so I will die a vagabond,
On this earth such fate is also known.”