Patchily graded the clean cloud seemed,
Denuding a vast acre of the sky;
The giant, fiery orange emerged esteemed,
Saddling the horizon a little nigh
The tranquil sea, feeding the newborn day
With its ever nourishing, sweet, succulent ray:
This year has earned another new tag,
The old had burnt with many a discarded rag!
As all beings strove with the roaring joy,
Vegetation trembled before the speeding envoy
Of uncertainty on earth; more toil to men,
Promising in the ratio of ten to ten
Victory and defeat, with the heart at the helm
To suffer lost, to defend or expand his realm...
This year has earned another new tag,
The old had burnt with many a discarded rag!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem