With crayons of colours, we shade,
Sketches of simplicity, we shade.
From the womb to this place,
Amid fanatics in a rat race,
Pacifying remorse of growth, we bade,
To bloom into prime, innocence we bade.
The worldly tantrums are all fake.
Minute pleasures we forgo, for whose sake?
Peeling the knees with constant collapse,
Solitude accompany the desolate instance,
But what to say?
With a countenance otherwise,
Smile. Make a name, and a life
Rest among petals this fortnight,
Harness humility, compassion, and be kind
With grace, bewilder the populace
Rare an alternative one has
Yet we have to persuade
Not an object of impression,
Be a soul with passion
Enjoy your existence through wisdom
Open your wings - Wings of freedom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem