Winter days have gone,
And I am standing still
Beside country's silent lake.
Some of season's dank leaves
Are still lying near my obedient garden bench
Where I stretch my hands
To adorn a new poetic sketch.
Sweet touch of wind tries to persuade
That Which act should I now play,
This arid heart wants to ponder
And ponders all the day....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Splendid write. Simple and beautiful. Enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sharing.
It's my pleasure