Watching an evening sun sink below the horizon, knowing
it will be traveling throughout night hours to reach its
destination by morning, rising into a brand new day.
Looking outdoors at a pale yellow sky, sun almost gone,
young trees reaching into the sky, looking eerily like
spider hands ready to reach out and grab the next person
who happens to pass by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Evening sun in western sky creates amazing mystery really. After sun's going, looking outdoors at a pale yellow sky our poetic mind blooms fantastically. A brilliant perceptive poem is well penned...10