Beauty in ordinary hand,
Like placing flowers gold on cheap stand.
Never be appreciated with creative look,
Dries prematurely as summer brook.
Always blooms in prosaic heart,
Clasps the dreams of ordinary birth.
Ever unmindful about eternal wealth
Soul touching thoughts hopelessly felt.
Farewell such silent depart,
Daughter of incorrect Earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem