When green leaves turn into yellow
and white clouds become gloomy
I am really uneasy?
Through the shattered window
I see children go to school
and I watch my face in the mirror.
Sharp black eye brows
gradually display the silver threads.
Oh! Where's my lost boisterous youth?
Remember the days I jumped into
running trains and pulled the chain
Whenever I saw film stars?
(in my dreams)
My life's train almost ramshackle
and crawls to the shunting yard?
[Scribbled in South Station, Boston today while going to Immigration Courts.I saw a big banner advertising a pumpkin-spiced Whiskey, if that could change the bitterness of life? ]
nimal p.dunuhinga
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
life's train almost ramshackle, good write, thanks.