Out Of Ideas
A
Abdul Wahab
0
Altın Yaprak
After each poem I think I am out of ideas
As I feel the door of my heart is closed fast
And the cells of my mind are shut out tight
And I would not be able to write anything anymore;
Then comes the rest and I start thinking again
And my thinking moves round a question
And that question is: If I can breathe that means I am alive
And if I am alive that means I have a life
And life is like a flute and it could never be out of tune;
Or a pond could never be out of ripples
Nor could an ocean be out of waves
And life is no less than both of them
So I just blow a bit of air or through a little stone
And a new wave of a new tune immediately breaks forth
In delight I sit and compose a poem for you to sing.
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