A class, a lass,
amongst faces,
laughter of echoes
that talk the peak,
of mystery that shines
through,
the lass not yet out of the woods,
so much ado about nothing?
the gate is of a bowl,
soldiers marching on and on,
the mystery is of her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ok its tough... :) i envision the banter of a bunch of kids thinking the world of themselves....still a long way off from practical life and its drudgery i guess the soldiers represent concerted disciplined effort..... that's it...lolzzzz :)