Old Man
Soubhagyabanta Maharana
Like the aerial roots of a banyan tree
Penetrating the soil
Piled up sorrows of the old man
Pierce his dejected heart from time to time..
Bright colours of his sweet memories
Fade away gradually
Like the colour of mist in sun-shine
In the ultimate moments of his life.
His life turns out to be a
Saturated sky of deep depression
Amid the patches of black and grey clouds.
He feels as if he is growing unwanted
By his loving family and kith and kin
Like an emaciated bullock by his farmer
In the agricultural sojourn.
The grateful moments of his golden youth
Have forgotten even the old man’s shadow
In his twilight days.
In his tremulous tears of agony
No more the ecstasy of his boisterous life is reflected
Except to count down in his brimming eyes
His difficult days lying ahead in desperation.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
grateful moments of golden youth, I like it.