ITS 1.37 NOW
Everybody fallen asleep , its 1.37 now
Silence and angels and fantasy will flow
Impatient mind
And have a heart too, undesired
Clinching and fluctuating , unstated
With an eye of curious kind.
Oh! Its 1.37 now
No more again,
Such blank expression
Neither a gibber nor a blab
The words fall short
Dawn is on a way to dusk
Close the window
Close the task
Hurry its 1.37 now, its time to go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem