Perhaps The Train Runs.
The train in time,
To quit time runs,
Coming out from human urn.
Stations in succession come,
No destination but destination hangs,
Amidst uncertainty the dirge is sung.
Time for no time in time runs,
The journey starts with Nature's art,
The wick of the broader burns.
Who tenders the ticket who knows,
In light and shade the train goes,
Where to alight, and why -none knows.
Dim recognition converges into live-present,
The inevitable comings have no future dusts,
The inmates wither into antiqued trust.
Time, Train, and Passenger,
Flash, merge, and return into silent home,
The bravado of philosophy and science,
Pass into naught, Perhaps the train runs! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem