Life, space, secluded place
But that's how I hear the waves crashing
See the parrots on a tree
The leaves that fall on a balcony
Smell the rain
Hear the wheels of the goods train
Some photogrpaphs on the wall
But no faces at all.
Episodes have burnished and furnished
Countless memories and dreams
Sun's rays and moonbeams
In reflection, lurid,
But not so often lucid,
Pacing the mind's corridors,
Opening the mind's tinted windows,
Walking out of the sacred circle
Leaning back in
But now the day will begin.
Copyright: Rani Turton
exactly i can view clear picture of your room through this poem. thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'A room of one's own', there is nothing better than having a private place, where one can sit and reflect with no one to disturb.