Wistfulness….A withered rose
Bereft of colour and fragrance,
Whose thorns still retain
Their painful sting.
Memory…A broken toy
With which grown-ups play
Unwilling to discard it
Though it be worthless.
Reminiscence…A faded portrait
Painted in the distant past
With no resemblance to the present
Yet lovingly cherished.
Yearning…A beckoning mirage
In the vast desert of life,
Always eluding the grasp
Of thirsty, weary travellers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is indeed a beautiful poem! Your observations are quite right! ! Keep writing...Best of luck! !