Life is nothing but a silent stream
With banks of time holding its flow
Scorching summer of pain and sorrow
Makes it dry rubbing off its glow
Life is nothing but a passing cloud
With rain and thunder hidden in it
Shedding sorrow and happiness on
The horizon a sad end it does meet
Life is nothing but an empty vessel
With wind of ego it makes a sound
When full to its brim with grain of pride
It tilts and tilts and topples to the ground
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow such a brilliant write, Tiku...10++++
My heartfelt thanks Sir.