When the trodden path is covered with muddy water,
It's time to go for the untrodden ones.
Reading and rereading the generation books
The faces grew more than the books did.
Is it the mind-forg'd manacles of a mystic mind?
Or the dilemma of that Dover beach man,
Or the road not taken by that wisdom-ended?
Anyways.
No more London bridge's falling down!
Though something left is left on the mouse,
All is well with some right click pains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poignant rendition, nicely encapsulated with clarity of thought and mind. Thanks for sharing.