Death Poem by dipak adhya
Death
When the twilight descends decay also engulfs the body of grief
All day has been spent in intolerance fire
All the garbages of past have turned into ashes
The moon still plays in the depth of well
Along with the cold clouds
Past grief dies
The eastern sky decorates itself with the falling sound of dew drops
And with the morning song
The white cloud alone floats in the sky!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 4:44:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
