On the table
Decorated with rare orchids
A golden ray crept in
Beaming like a new born
They
As usual
Came hand in hand
And had their evening coffee
Not noticed him.
He tickled them
With those
Heavenly fingers
Alas! They did not feel it
As lost in their own worlds
Minutes later
Came the young scavenger
And removed the tea cups
Drenched in golden halo
Cold
But gleaming.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great imagery...good words..