Bird returns home to breathe quaint of its own shore,
To ensure virile rhythm rattling from branch to branch,
By the joy, it chirrups to know home is sweetest of all,
As heart croons within to utter songs of joy and sorrow.
Vein pulses faster being in touch of mellow soft of green
As rungs of bell lash twilight to resound spell of night
nothing is beyond yet all within by room of repose
nature rejoices as all earthly things need to rise and fall.
in midst of deep forest quercus bewilders being befuddled
where silence rests upon cushion of silhouette to resurrect
dream shambles like dwarf shadow by captivity of slumber,
lest night whispers to behold blue onto dregs of wee hours
freshness resolves to brace up newness by the journey
as blue of sea reverberates by falling beams of full moon
by hale of innocence by time path needs to bespeak of white
yet where are we as world loses to cry by grip of insanity.?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yet where are we as world loses to cry by grip of insanity? What an compelling ending to this powerful and philosophical poem! Well done my friend!