Still it's not a day so bright,
still it's not a day of sunlight,
still it's not a pleasant moonlight,
may be a day or starry night,
I am still a slave,
of old forecasts,
that make so many promises to me,
and I am sure that promise that is made to me,
is the real one
while others are dreaming like an ignorant Niger
whose emancipation
is in the hands of the Angel of Death,
still I am fighting with my fate,
I am blind in love and belief.
All my efforts are to prove that
my dreams will come true.
Who can fight with his fate?
We all are like the innocent Niger
And I see the Angel of Death,
Is approaching all of us,
and when our sleep will be broken
and if a little hatred is left in us,
we shall not hate anything else
other than the old forecasts
that kidded us to dream like the ignorant Niger!
fight on my friend and soon we will all see the light Thank you sir-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem based on on a great poem of H.W. Longfellow.