In the wee hours of my life
You come knocking at my door,
Then I find how pleasing
It is to fill your thirsty souls;
You variety faces,
Variety hearts and souls and colours,
I would be glad to find you
Head high among the crowds,
And gladder to see you
Climb up life’s ladders
But when your tender hands
Reach some unreached souls
In the distant future
My eyes will shed drops of tears
And as a proud teacher
I would come to know
Long back I had lit a tiny fire!
- J T Jayasingh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem