I am not the young age that goes away not to return,
No Shephali flower am I to fall down when comes the dawn.
Not am I the gloom of the new-moon day
Storms come and storms go, love’s white bloom I stay.
In the realm of my mind along ecstasy of creation
I am the rhythm of creativity, the paradise of affection.
By setting new tunes to the flute of life,
By infusing abundance there into,
I will refurbish and keep alive
My world for all time to come in situ.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem