A kite flew in the blue sky,
floating with the directions of wind,
it flew with the birds who flew much high.
Down the brown bricks and the cemented houses,
it saw little figures which cropped up like weeds.
Figures which seemed to be tizzy in the dazzling daylight,
maybe busy in fulfilling their own needs.
But now the mood of the wind changed,
and the kite had to return to its native place.
Unwillingly it came down slowly,
and wished to fly again in the blue sky....
A sublime start with a nice poem, Kashni. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good write. A kite's dream is to fly ;))