When clear crystal spheres drop
From the sky above the chimney top,
Hardly we feel the calm drizzle,
Once a cloud's; a piece of puzzle.
Finding comfort within the walls,
We hear the breeze's subtle calls.
Each carries with maudine moments.
Those that made some smile and lament.
As they fuse with the mundane earth,
They freshen up those long green sheaths,
Scorched as it was before but hey,
'We have outlived the short-lived ray'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem