It gives me pleasure-
To pen few lines,
I make it sure-
To write all times.
Tears washing my pain-
As gushing rain,
No one to share-
And none to care.
Then I sit-
Thinking a bit,
With a broken heart-
Then I start,
To write and write-
And my heart is light.
The world is bright-
Feel all is right,
Everyone so near-
Feel so dear,
Then I sit-
Thinking a bit,
And with a smile-
And in style,
I write few lines-
And makes all shine.
So I write:
When I am sad,
When I am glad,
That makes me say,
That poem is my ray,
And every day,
Poems make me gay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nothing like good poetry--