something found in the middle of the road that nobody was paying attention to…
Metaphors here, translated…
Circular, hollow in the middle, a flattened, piece of iron plate
Lie, on the muddied roads, using the postures of fate
I walked past, hesitated, again, and again, turned back around, to, pick it back up
And, using my destiny and serendipity as, the focal point
And, all of a sudden, the universe, started, vibrating
not my photo…
Should I be happy or sad?
I and the iron plate exchanged gazes in silence
We’re both, very minimal, very, miniscule in the world
And, all the comedies, tragedies became, merely, illusions
So are, the trembling of the universe, or maybe,
So are our chance meeting
Should I, invest some sort of an emotion to this?
So, here, the iron plate, may NOT be an iron plate literally, it’s a metaphor, for the things that this poet had encountered, that’s caused her/him to ponder about life, and, that iron plate was just, lying, in the middle of the road, waiting for someone who can and will, pay it some heed, not knowing where the road of life is taking it………