“I am not born to be a poet, I’m sorry”
This is what you should never say
Just open the window
And look out to hearth wind singing lullaby
To trees and creepers alike
And putting them to sleep.
And look at the rebel bud
Whose green cap flies away
And who bashfully reveals
Her face full of beauty.
And seeing all these miracles
Don’t you change your harsh mind
And think at least for a moment
Of making a poem, O’ mankind?