When you wonder why I soar beyond the sky,
Feel free to inquire and a secret will be told.
It’s a mystery to me but I’ll give it a try,
And unfold for you a story that’s ages old.
Two score years ago did a magic carpet emerge,
And Metro was the name its weaver chose.
So now I go anyplace that my heart has the urge,
Even up high as the sun to see how the world arose.
I can circle the moon eating icy clouds with a spoon;
Stars I can hold like glowing diamonds in my fingers.
But still the sky begins to darken way too soon,
When the day is done and the night looms and lingers.
Nevertheless there’s fun in the light of the moon,
As my flying carpet goes circling above Katmandu.
I’m loving every twinkling of this charming boon,
As I dream of new wonders and worlds to woo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem