I wish I were a seasonal bird,
That travels flying around the world,
With sweet companionship of a partner,
Whose heart knows nothing except,
Sometimes life gives us severe shock,
Undermines the plans and does block,
The ways of wisdom leading ahead,
Reveals the hands that secretly mock.
A paragon of patience,
A model of sacrifice,
Clad in clothes,
Rough, drab and dull.
When indelible memories of the past,
Torment my heart and mind; I write.
When mist floats in front of the eyes,
Alongside the wide gray road stood I,
To watch a procession passed by,
Of the damsels, rather all in teen,
Of the same size height and colour,