The earth is like our lives,
Performing the funeral rites.
The gloomy sky reminds us
Of Hands of Death that enjoys upon
Our life's stands leaving us
Under the Naked Sky.
No more mirth, nor merrymaking;
Our lives stagger upon Earth's jerking
As if the quake coming to devour us.
Our mind's beauty Nature cares not.
The blue river seems now dull;
Evening air also puts us into lull.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem