The famous gun of the ancient time,
Which was once used by the powerful ruler, is now kept in the museum;
The spectators come and watch it in amazement,
It is of no use at present
And it looks just like a toy there.
The little child enthusiastically comes to see it with his father,
He stares at it with his childish imagination,
Trying to match its glory and strength
Which he has heard very often from his dear grandfather,
But he finds the reality completely different.
Having lost its power and strength, the gun, which once killed so many fierce animals and robbers accurately remains absolutely silent now.
The gun is dead and the glorious story about it is also dead to the child,
He returns home being sad and dejected.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem