In the narrow dawny morning lane,
Old witch was going back on her way,
Heard; birds were singing with gay,
Who has broken witch's window pane?
All twinkling orbs drove with her away,
They were chasing the dying dark sway,
And the baby angel was behind the old,
With the brightly lighted lamp of gold
This process is continuing,
Since time immemorial,
Life is a chasing game,
Beginning to end..
………………………………….
It is beautiful poem on our chasing and searching life dreams, to become something worthwhile. It rhymes well the picture you painted is provoking. enjoyed it.
Life is a chasing game beginning to end this is so true nice writing
Life is a chasing game beginning to end this is so true nice writing
Life is a chasing game beginning to end this is so true nice writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful canvas with a paint where the lives are in a pace / bravo