Books of novel are tetra-packs.
Fruits of society are manually picked up
Crushed, mixed in neat proportions
And sealed to make fresh fruit juice.
Goodwills achieved by the presenters
Put wings to the packages.
It's a different world in the dark interior
There are dreams of sun, rain, summer,
And the colours and tunes of spring
Which present a mirror world
Full of butterflies and pests.
Each pack waits to tell its inside story
To an expectant connoisseur
And waits eagerly for a sigh of relief.
As the wind rolls on
Cloned and genetically modified fruits appear
New entrepreneurs present newer packs
Modern people enjoy never-before taste
Every now and then new vistas open up,
The two worlds spin side by side.
Wonderfully in this narrative work side by side two worlds spin around. This is definitely very interesting and wise composition shared with reality. Very wisely penned poem in nice context.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a powerful reality spinning around the deeper mystery. This is a brilliant idea, well executed. Tom Billsborough