Though Age is catching up on me
It cannot dry up the ink
From which I write consistently
Emotions felt and thoughts I think.
Hope is the winged dream I fly
To vast horizons it may soar,
While Pain is the dew, comes from my eye-
And Substance, the reason I'm here for.
Form contains the words conveyed
Perhaps some Rhyme may spice the piece,
But Happiness is the reward that laid
Its soft and gentle kiss to this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Age can't dry up your ink if dreams fill up your heart Pain cant dry up your ink if new dawn catching up your mind