A baby cries in a cradle for milk
until he becomes a boy.
Who knows his destiny.
A fortune teller may sketches vast dreams
like Arabian nights.
The boy likes to be in jungle to see his forefathers.
but the parents never allowed and they want to see him
As a Doctor, Proctor or an Engineer.
He breaks his cradle and make swords and shields
bows and arrows, fight alone to build sand castles.
sails to better worlds with his paper boats.
When he becomes a man
he seeks a partner female to share his loneliness.
Then afterwards he becomes a father of sons and daughters.
He fights to earn and feed them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem