The celestial and stoical
Sky knows everything.
It's not just a Blue
running away from the
family of colours
or just reflected by
air particles, creating
above the mighty arch of
compassionate love
and warmth.
It quietly watches the
unending exodus of
generations, carrying
their emotions and histories
below on earth. Every day
there's a magnificent play
of changing colours...
Gray to Blue to Purple
and to dusky velvet.
A staring look make
you feel the whisperings
of the past ages.
It smiles at you and
touch your solitude
and you know that you're
not alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem