In zeal the fishermen wait
Silence is their common bond
Eyes rooted on the submerged traps
With a hope so high
From the horizon
A cruel purple is cast upon the sky
Their eyes glow as the their gaze shifts
To the rising fireball
He peeps
Then majestically emerges
Diluting the range of my eyes gaze upon the sky
In the beautiful purple of 'aria' flower
The waters rush to fill king's bed
The morning's beauty beams
On the faces of the fishermen
As the falling tide reveals a beauty
Of a bumper catch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem can serve as a preface to a guide or a novel on the life of fishermen. Such a wonderful write. Thanks, Pen.