Plucked away from Thirthahalli
She yearned her lost paradise,
A sunny horizon that rose into
A landscape of mountains,
Parting clouds and passing rains.
The new city streets
Invited her gloom
with noise, dirt and stench;
In this darkness, should loom
Her heart, paused to wrench.
Can she create her own space again -
In an alien world of lights,
To built her craft, sing her past
Wing her dreams, shape her schemes,
Make her silence heard,
And with eyes closed,
See her own paradise again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem