We have heard, not seen
Information is exibited
as knowledge
That is the tragedy
A defeat is celebrated as victory
The sunset is pictured as sunrise
The dead body of nature rehabilited
On the white pages of books
Decorated with colours
Is exhibited as earth
We are moving no doubt
But in a vortex
Round and round and round,
We keep standing
But very often in a dream
Feel reaching the destination
A very few have opened up the sky
And peeped into its mystery,
We are thrilled of hearing
The journey of adventure
And blindly feel that
We have also reached.
That is our tragedy
A defeat is celebrated
Very often as a victory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem brings about some very common human weakness: We keep standing But very often in a dream Feel reaching the destination