We are the People of the Heart, the kings,
Without the crown, the throne and golden rings.
The morning-bird may call its mate at dawn,
I hear something different when it sings.
The world mourned the summer, but I have felt
The rest of falls, the madness of springs.
Tomorrow is still far away from us,
Today's today, let us see what it brings.
From north to west, from east to west each time,
O world, you pulled me with your locks as strings.
Imprisoned in the garden of illusions,
I picked the flower-leaves and made my wings.
I am Mahi, the poet who saw meanings,
Since times immemorial, in many things.
Jun 27, 2022
Jun 27, 2022 at 12:15 PM UTC
We are the People of the Heart, the kings,
Without the crown, the throne and golden rings.
The morning-bird may call its mate at dawn,
I hear something different when it sings.
The world mourned the summer, but I have felt
The rest of falls, the madness of springs.
Tomorrow is still far away from us,
Today's today, let us see what it brings.
From north to west, from east to west each time,
O world, you pulled me with your locks as strings.
Imprisoned in the garden of illusions,
I picked the flower-leaves and made my wings.
I am Mahi, the poet who saw meanings,
Since times immemorial, in many things.
