Rising Sun Poem by MAHTAB BANGALEE
Rising Sun
In the winter morning
Diamond fogs play on spiky grasses.
The rising sun is my friend then.
Not pigeons but crows flying on this town
In winter, the feathers are crystal black.
Then cawing is my morning song.
Town streets of dawn are not alone.
Female garments workers are busy.
Like the butterflies after blooming fresh flowers
My country is my pride for the hard workers.
This world is my heaven for welfare inventions.
The winter helps me to see the rising sun of life.
-20.12.2020 Chattogram
Nice write on an East Winter morning painted with good patriotic feelings.5 stars
Truly beautiful and deeply touching. Long lasting stanzas and verses. All described with such delicacy and good taste. A poem to really enjoy and not let it go to waste. Splendid and full of grace.
Whatever happen life never stops it just goes on and on till breath goes on...rising sun will always shine calling us to marvels remembered for ages.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/20/2024 1:24:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Wow! A wonderful poem dear, dear Mahtab! May the rising sun always give you the brilliance of mind and fulfillment of all your dreams.with warmest wishes.