Is an old event to recollect and remember
Few fellows reach a function in village remote
At the end of the occasion, starts back to the journey
Where in dribbling of rain starts, dark sets in
All were held at a spot away from bus stand
Nothing is visible, and no choice to reach
While all are under disarray, a blind man knows the fact
Asks the persons to follow and straight guides to stand
All appreciate the blind, for the talent of possessive
Unsighted respond the night nor day more eighth are same
As is the daily route, no confusion to originate
talent is a God gift to a person of normal or abnormal
worthy work with heart and mind makes one talented
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem