A flash, green not so old
It was a cry, and cries of cold
Not a reverie nor a dream
What is said, is a real scene
The cry was the cry of a lily frail
Withering and wailing for drizzle or hail!
Amidst the dark, some hubbub was heard
Followed those; who abhorred and admired!
In throes of death, soul shrieked!
Jaws moved unheeded!
Some kneeled to kiss the feet..
Some sighed and some weep
Hands froze, lips strove to speak...
I'm leaving, I'm leaving
"I am leaving" is a fantastic slogan.., for death is the only reality. Nice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem & a priceless expression.