When you come to the end of the road,
Go ahead, explode, do not go back,
Blaze out a new trail.
In time, a Super Highway, may unveil. Fully Grown Picturing the future,
Knowing the past.
Sleeping only part-time,
Wondering if memories will last.
Winds drying the dew drops,
Remembering music from yester-year.
Laborers gathering golden crops.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem