Far away smoke rises from a cigar
And old ferryman waits from dawn to dusk.
But nobody peeps and they use the new bridge secretly.
Once in a blue Moon a poor soul comes to join the ferry
But he crossed only once and never seen him again.
One day he dreamed the old customers in a hurry
And the bridge has collapsed.
But he could not wake up and the ferry drifted away.
*On this mysterious pilgrimage in between the sky and earth, cries and wails of poor pilgrims.But the sky is far away....................................!
A superb metaphorical write. The river of no return. Death, the great intangible. Haunting, in its loveliness.Chilling in its implications.10/10. Fond regards, Sandra
Forever do I wait. The smoke of my cigar drives the ferry into the moon, on a river of blue smoke. while I wait to pick you up under the bridge.. There are no return trips...iip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a fascinating poem about life and death and once upon a time. No matter how many new bridges we build, ultimately the ferryman must ultimately accompany us on our final journey. You share a bitter/sweet soul in this one Nimal. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥