If I were to get pregnant and find
The seeds of poetry in the flutters of core,
Today, I would bud them to the sky or underneath the world.
...Let them be effective for the whole universe!
Who never bows down the head to the devastating form of a storm,
Hey, my optimistic aphorism,
In the guise of a cloud messenger,
Downpour the juicy water of the rainy season.
Let the faded flowers bud and wake up,
And may the peaceful pigeon
Fly off heartily to the corner of the struggle for liberty!
By getting the warmth of a frozen bosom in the face of drought victims,
May the lightning-thunderbolt there laugh comfortably.
Hey, the oracle, you just roar up.
Listening to the sound of your growling,
Shivers the whole sensibility of my body;
Beyond the sea, swimming across the waters of a thousand rivers\' boundaries,
I wander to look for the stick of reality.
Hey, the Almighty! Hey, Allah! Hey, God! Hey, Ishwar!
Give me boundless divine power
To steer the arms of capability
Through the massive flux of the ocean of human beings,
Either for the sake of truthfulness
Or, I intend to be a bold one like the genius sailor Christopher Columbus.