Trudging along the slippery path of life,
If I ever slip to the ground,
Please extend a hand of yours,
For me to hold and turn around,
To be on my feet again, leaving the ground.
If I stray and stroll on a wrong path,
Just raise your hands and not voice,
And signal me to come back home,
Rush I will, abandoning the roam,
Like a dumb animal, to bear the wrath.
If you want to share a private whisper,
Just a soft touch on my hand will do,
If words run out, hold my hand and cast a look,
My eager ears will no doubt pick the clue,
Then and there, from your touch and stare.
If and when I lie speechless, in my final hours,
Darling please hold my hand and look at my face.
With your touch, I shall smile and say goodbye,
And slowly pass away in sublime grace,
Hands still clasped, my soul will be in the eternal space.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem