The night in its womb
conceal many a dream
that fade away at the site
of an insensitive sun...
The dreams get scattered
like soft flour at the wind
and dissolve in the earth
like bones and ashes...
No reality can ever morph
into dreams; no dream can
ever turn into real-
a boon to us, humans!
No reality can ever morph into dreams; no dream can ever turn into real- Nice observation. Nice consider it a boon. Thank you.
this one is wrapped up in a down tone, as if written under some mood!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
No reality can ever morph into dreams; no dream can ever turn into real- a boon to us, humans! .. ...this quatrain has a deep inner meaning.its a boon n bane too, bt great wrk dear, I salute your observance skills.....