Why your words are so red like soil?
Is it that you are blended
With cut of wisdom swords?
Why, my poet?
I see stars falling like rain,
I see your words in their traffic congestion.
Can I assess your lips with the Golden spoon,
To let wise men see what I see?
My eyes are paralysed, my sharpness of words,
I see myself as perfect, but your swords surpass perfection.