Being a writer is like
treading miles of land familiar,
terrains unfamiliar,
sipping different cups of tea
of people known and unknown
at strange times
at strange places
from cups familiar and unfamiliar,
drinking deep
in the fountain of raw experiences
transmuting the real and the imagined
into living experiences
that leave footprints
in the sands of time eternal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem