Last night I was little busy
Finding some of my old things
Which have no financial value now a days
In deed those were nothing
Yet I needed those, I feel
A pen, very old
Made of pure gold, gifted from my grandpa
A radio I bought from my first income
A handkerchief, I forgot for long
I felt like mad to get those
I do not know, why…but I became so impatient
In the midnight, I went upstairs
When everybody was in a deep sleep
I searched thoroughly in the dark
With a lantern in my hand
To find something very old!
A pen made of pure gold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem