 
            
Not even a single word
Is mine.
I am writing with words, 
And the words are
Obeying my command.
Thank God, I am here
With the words, 
Knowing fully well
They are all creating
Disturbances On the highway
Of the life at pick hours. 
I am about to pass away, 
But the words are there
To keep me with them.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem 
            
 
                    