With many a humps and brakes here,
With many a curves and turns there,
The bus is taking me to my destiny.
The bus is doing the journey with me.
The good-for-nothing blowing horn is destroying my ear drums.
But the worse is the man snoring beside me.
With a baby crying, with a man shouting,
With the bus suffering all these was going.
Again and again meeting and greeting,
All its wheel friends on the way,
The bus is going.
Not wanting to stop on the bad road also.
Experiencing different weather its going
With sun, with rain, with spring, with wind,
Nothing can stop it except one sign,
That's the bus stop, which is it's destiny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice animated image. Thanks.