He said that one day we will meet
When pheasants with them moon will bring
When birds make nests in depth of sea
When dead ones stand and chant and sing
On Sunland when there will be sleet
On Venus when cuckoo will sing
Quoth he, ' be patient, not go fast'
Lord will review thy story's cast
Quoth me, ' O well! Not bother thou'
With hand in hand in world we go.
As morning meet with dusky hue
As oceans margins meet all time
As sun and moon as me and thou
An ancient hymn, a forlorn rhyme
Quoth he that one day I'll come
When flock of fish in air will fly
When sky will come to meet this earth
And sun with Moon and stars will come
On day of Doom on second birth
When angels bands from heavens come
Oh thou the gust of desert wind
Come not with thirst my lips are dry
I'll go with the watery waves
In oceans wild where hope fly
Your poem serves as a prime illustration of this concept. The presentation is outstanding and the flow is simply marvelous. Full 5****
Thanks for your beauteous words Asim Nehal but things are not in our hands there is a destiny that shape our ends. Hope sometimes dips in oceans of gloom and melancholy
Our ideas hold such immense power that they have the potential to turn the impossible into reality. Despite knowing that certain things are meant to remain as they are, we still yearn to view them through a different lens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
We run from pillar to post and yet we never meet, meeting of mind is important than meeting of body. Good poem.
You are right Juhaina, thats what which we call the hand of fate and destiny that shape our ends. Sometimes it seems that we are puppets in the hands of destiny