I walked in the park one fine afternoon
With Nostalgic footsteps upon the ground,
I Found secrets of laughter, myth and gloom
Caught in a frown listening to every sound.
Then I saw a few happy people together,
Walking in the park where I grew up playing games,
The trees that were small had grown taller
And outlived the mockery of their youthful names.
On the footpath near the stream that run by
Park benches display names where old memory lies,
Their broken shadows of the past unable to die
Meet our eyes in the nectar of present times.
Large stones framed a road with winding lines
Narrowly stretched as a guide into whitely woods
And the flight of air, that we bare; nature shares
The secret serenity awaken by other worlds.
Near older trees we found loose leaves in a heap
Dogs lapping the grounds with their masters
Some admirers stood near the water’s edge
Half sunk with the ducks in the lake like lap
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem