It's an early gloomy morning.
And it seems Sun forgets to rise!
The single's door is open.
A black cat mewls on the doorstep
And a gadfly enters and stays for a while.
The next door maiden comes in to give the newspaper.
You can hear a faint cry inside the house
And the penniless old man is no more.
He belongs to the pauper's graveyard
And the funeral is over quietly.
The doleful maiden writes a memorandum.
'At last he left leaving the black cat his will for me.'
Rich atmosphere and fine imagery sustained in this shadowy little poem. Very touching, Nimal. Kind regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one is a portrait with many colours, but all muted. Again, the straightforward directness of your approach captures the reader's attention and touches his/her heart. How subtly you evoke the old man's death and the last line about the cat gives the poem an unexpected twist. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx