Change comes like the morning sun
When the eastern horizon smiles
In the glow of its infant rays
It also drizzles
Still the sun comes.
Sometimes the owl hoots with a song
So coarse to usher an omen
That brings melancholy
But the Nightingale too gives melodies
That sooth a broken heart
Change yesterday had a bland taste
Today it comes with ovation
Even without the knowledge
Of what it carries in its wings
Tomorrow laughter may come
Or We may wail
That's the nature of change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem