The little ones have flown away to their own nests in the horizons yonder
Now we bask in the golden rays of our evening streaming through clouds
of memories asunder,
Why do I worry about the receding light?
The rays would return in the night
Piercing the darkness slowly
And lighting a thousand lamps, bringing back the glow in tired eyes
glowing cheerfully
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beautiful uplifting write 10