I never compose a poem
It comes out from my mind
Like the new leafs of a tree
I just write it and find.
The idea conceives in my mind
When I read others
It grows inside me in concealment
And does not care anything or bother.
Someone takes moment to appear
Few take days
Many come out after months
Remaining silent or out of trace.
I just polish the new born
Cut, paste, re-arrange or grind
I never compose a poem
It comes out from my mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem