poets are made of clay
ordinary clay in multi colors of joy.
poets can dance very well to every music played.
some plait their hair
some prefer it bald
some wear pyjamas to the store
some hate brushing their teeth
some are extraordinary stubborn
some do have a sense of humour
some love to play in the sun
some think the rain is more lovely
some love to eat big crabs
some only something bite size
some love to cry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem