A young way to crave in old views
Is an idea disliked by the most!
Yet an untamed heart of mine, restless,
To acclaim my own thought hues.
Cradles there out of the ashes,
A dream to adore, a promise to self.
Perhaps this day I will pen you down,
Let the present mock, future will praise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem