Ahead of me a hill to pass and the road is slippery & full of bends.
I am a driver not a jockey and this my old crock but not a Stallion.
Oh! I have passed my history teacher who was standing at the bus stop
Since a long time and not aware of the General Bus strike.
I am sorry my brakes are not so good
And the road is slippery, ahead of me a hill to pass.
All of a sudden I saw a racing car has overtaken me
And the history teacher in the car.
I am very happy that she got a ride at last
And would be home earlier than me.
* It was written in the History of the bygone roads, but the modernized peculiar World, on their highways we are just puppets?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is much to be said for the kindness and courtesy of the past. Nostalgic write, Nimal. Warm wishes, Sandra