Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Once, upon a place There was a fisherman He had a river Of his own He had Ten or twelve fishhooks Of his own And he had…. Are you listening? So, he had… A river Fishhooks But then.... Listen listen He didn’t have Fishes Of his own Every morning He would go to the riverside Clean the fishhooks And call the fishes Beckoning to them. Soon, it’ll be noon Evening And then night. Poor fellow None of them Were his None of them Heeded him. I have heard him Address them “Vave” In desperation Have seen his Tear flooded Fondness Permeate The river I feel sorry For him. Translator : Shyma P
0
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Letters to violet - 12
Once, upon a place There was a fisherman He had a river Of his own He had Ten or twelve fishhooks Of his own And he had…. Are you listening? So, he had… A river Fishhooks But then.... Listen listen He didn’t have Fishes Of his own Every morning He would go to the riverside Clean the fishhooks And call the fishes Beckoning to them. Soon, it’ll be noon Evening And then night. Poor fellow None of them Were his None of them Heeded him. I have heard him Address them “Vave” In desperation Have seen his Tear flooded Fondness Permeate The river I feel sorry For him. Translator : Shyma P
kuzhur
Written by
41/M/Indian
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem