The old lies on the bosom of the young,
A temporary shelter;
Before being swept away by a breeze
Or being broomed off by the gardener.
Life is a cycle of green-grey-green,
Everywhere around we can see this scene.
16 September 2022
(While walking around the Baridhara DOHS Pond.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem