Classic Poem

Words always appear small
but one may pile them up to form a home
that would suffice for the two of us
Words always look scattered
but one can glue them into a toy
that may pacify a hungry child
Words always seem meager
but one may save them for a yard of land
where one may plant a few dreams
Words, no doubt, cost a lot,
but one may turn them into instalments
to carry home a T.V. set
Words are, indeed, full of blessings
like the evenings at a saint's shrine
like the songs that sailors sing
liek the ragged hands of the tillers
like a mother's prayer
like the children's calls

[Translated by Professor C M Naim]