Young blood has cuddled
Where is the warmth of your blood
Where are the huge determinations
Where have gone the thoughts sublime
What is map of your destination
the dance romance and making of love?
Is not only the aim of life
are you not losing the hawkish eyes
Are you not missing the lions roar
the day of youth comes every year
think of that what it leaves rear
the empty tins of tins of cold and hot drinks
the soda and wines empty vessels
the pitted dancing floors and dim lights
the lustful gestures and emotional nights
the youth is blind every body say
and it very easily sway
do you prove that it is right
or you show your moral might
do you think of those naked feet
and the cheeks rot finding to eat
the empty stomachs and frozen thoughts
the life has given any thing not
you aimed at to change the world
but you are just a passing bird
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem