Awake in the morning, a chilled morning;
Cold breeze sneaking through the window,
Things looked gloomy and not pleasing,
A little bird at the window fluttering and chirping,
A sad note in his voice.......singing,
On grass, morning tears not glistening,
The reason, perhaps, is the warmth of sun missing,
And my cup of tea looking cold and empty,
And when filled with warmth
Still going cold and empty,
For how long will clouds
Keep the sun hiding in far heaven?
Many many thanks............Dinesh Ji................I am humbled....................
It is a sad poem on the assumed proportions of the clumsiness of a morning. But it is very nice to see that you have a high degree of rendering style and it is a beautiful poem indeed Deepakji.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Painted with the ink of creativity.