Returning from tuition, through the rain,
With an umbrella, end of the eve,
I miss those days with unknown pain.
And every single-days let me leave
The pasts, even I don't want to go.
Future welcomes me to be hard.
But I can't stay here anymore. ‘Oh! '
Is the word as a triumph card.
Those rainy eve, my feet were bare,
Breezes were cold, road was so muddy,
Lantern in a hand, my legs were rare
Covered by pants, shoulder became ruddy
By a burden bag of books and I took
My shoes with the umbrella in another hand.
Thunders flashed and cold breeze shook,
Through the dark, legs were filled with sand,
I feel those days alive now and then.
Present sends me to the future-moment.
I fear to face the future, but there is no pen
To edit my life with any a comment!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Our past memories are indeed something that we like to delve into often... A nice write Sudipta... Poemhunter e shagoto tomai ;)