Where roses are red, birds sing,
The sky is blue,
Night is dark,
Stars are bright,
Clear is the sight.
Where leaves are greener than
They are in imagination.
Water is really ‘life’ and ‘alive’,
Fountains are dancing popinjays,
Clouds are, ‘bears’ and ‘demons’ or ‘angels’-sometimes,
Songs are rhymes of enigmatic childhood days,
Faith is as that of a child unto fairies.
Suddenly, the driver stopped the cab and pointed outside,
Looking out, I saw
My ancestral home
My destination has come at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem