Throwing your hands into the sky
If you call she will not listen to you,
If you ask a patch of cloud to wait a while
She will not wait also and listen to you
Stopping her ever flight,
No color will fall into your hand
From the sky willingly at your wish
No river, No sea, No ocean
Will look back in sympathy at you
No mountain, no hill, no peak
Will raise their head to attend to your call
No plants, no trees, no green fields
Have time to indulge in making friend with you,
Nothing in nature and in cradle of world
Never wants you to be spontaneous
Everything is in motion with own instinct
No one likes spending a moment for you
Nobody will smile and weep for your
Joy and pain; even no one shares your
Bright and dark moment in life,
All seem to be lover of lovers
When you ask for love in return,
This world and life becomes friendly and foe
And verge on demand in any relation of relativity,
Neither any emotion, nor sensation, nor affection
Can touch and melt lead like this heart
No word, no feeling like whet arrow
Can pierce into soul of the stark soil,
Only love like loving heart is sharper
Than anything else to penetrate into
Minutest body of dust, atom and molecule
In universe, nothing is immobile for you and me,
Everything is mutable in its own course
Neither time nor path will stay to greet
And see off, and good bye at entrance
And at exit on your ever journey,
Neither looks back in fury nor in desire
Neither stretches your hand in getting nor holding,
Looking ahead go on, never stop until
Love hails you to her golden heart
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
If you call her she will not listen to you. Greart work with the muse of love; going on till you fulfil your dreams.
A wonderful, philosophical poem, Sankar. The phrasing loses a little something because of the translation from your native tongue, but the message comes through. I like this kind of poem. Thanks
We must interact with the life around us each and every moment we are alive. We must do it in the present because that is all the reality we have, going back to the past is impossible, we must leave what is done there and not feed upon it but move on, and trying to predict and plan the future is difficult because of the indifference and uncertainty of the world around us and life itself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Throwing your hands into the sky If you call she will not listen to you If you ask a patch of cloud to wait a while She will not wait and listen to you Stopping her ever flight No color will fall into your hand At your wish. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Looking ahead go on, never stop until Love hails you to her golden heart.- - - - -wow! ! !