Along the roadside as I go,
I peep through the houses in a row.
In which one appears strange;
As if it has undergone many times a change.
I glance at the solitary window,
Which has many melancholy seeds to sow.
I go near the window which is solitary;
Bearing the days lonely and nights dreary.
What is the life of that house, I think!
Where no one breathes nor anyone's eyes blink!
With this thought I move along the window sill,
Keeping the thought in my mind still;
I move aside the place,
With memory's smallest trace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sublime start with a nice poem, Shruti F. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.