When smoked I the cigar for the first time,
Thought I myself a hero
Taking a cigarette,
Buying it and lighting it
And smoking,
Held in between the fingers,
Smokes trailing,
The embers burning,
The ashes falling
Or shaken off,
The cigarette on the lips,
Smokes coming out of the nose
And the lips,
When took I for the first time
The cigarette,
Thought I myself as hero in making.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem