The Colour of my Sky is blue,
hawk-eyed destiny hovers, ensue;
to seek shelter in heaven's wind-house,
betwixt windy mountains, wild fire in woe like a wearable wouse rouse;
trees shelterbird's nest:
Nested on branch, nest hone no homelessness.
I don't know, where, the earth and the sky meet.
Neat heap of hues ripe on dew, is Phawngpui Mountain really blue or
Is it just a reflection of the skies, accrue?
I do know that this is where
Rhododendrons find refuge
amidst the blue hazed hills'hue
In this sinewed muse, grows out of maze, a derive brief-case, in lieu
Still remains in my chest, the cheers,
The colour of my sky, blue.
-Lovita J R Morang.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem