White light of the sun filtering down through a hazy atmosphere
Everywhere, people shedding their garb, frolicking in a greater ecstasy. Golden days stretching ahead; a certain weary depression.
Rivulets running down little side streets past collections of
bags of spring cleaning, to join the mighty river flowing far away.
Overhead, the raucous call of the crow, welcoming the New Life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the raucous call of the crow, welcoming the New Life'. Nice write. Thanks for sharing.10 points.