Days are gloomy
Nights are dim.
Eventually, sleeping is our permanent dress.
From noon's sleep, no one wakes up;
Both the banks sleeping endless—
Only the river runs, alone with its stream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very balanced appraisal of the current socio-political atmosphere of the country which calls for answer of several unsolved questions. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks a lot, dear poet. regards.