Supple words have delicately written
With poet’s soft touch
Through the domain of self-disrespect
Because the poetry evolves from the modesty
Not from the self-conceit.
Come welling up from the river of words
Ever growing river which exists in every poet’s dream
As an insatiate heaven,
That’s why the poet’s owe no hell
Only sweet heaven of pleasure.
One day all the poets will go to heaven
All the poets will fly
All the poets will have halos like Christ
Hipster, half mad
Or else ideal, numb.
Yes all the poets will go to heaven
Because they know how to protect themselves-
From the poisonous pierce of sin
Before they got pierced.
Like the anti-ballistic missile
Manuscript is their court of justice-
Inauguration of the poem-collections-
Is their celebration instead of New Year.
And they will have survived looking through the high sky
When the loaf of bread will fell down
Just like as fragments of poetry.