When the heavenly bodies keep their route,
when honey is collected by the bees,
when a lion conquers a deer,
when skin begins to wrinkle,
when senses fail one by one,
when Pluto misses its status,
when we lose our dear ones
when a bud falls down before bloom,
when soil covers the body,
when tears fall on the grave,
when frustration burns our heart,
when snow begins to melt,
I feel that
every cloud has a silver lining,
if I am not in cloud-
I am in the cuckoo land.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The question and the quench goes on and on till the last breath... Who Knows? regards sandhya