Last few days I was dying to listen a song...
Rainy vehicles are vanishing to the confluence of an unknown city
playing their horn
Walker having few unuseful umbrellas in their pocket
There is no shop in this city, where sales sunlight
Vegetarian farmers have already built their cave
in the materialistic hill
After a long time forgetting his way
a foreign flute player
shouting his tune
“You all come back to the home
today sunlight will be shown in the Television”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem