On that beautiful night
Rana dreamt a sweet dream,
He was running with the football
Through the green grassy field,
And enchanting the people
With his superior skill and speed,
He was truly proud to dream about the glory of this game.
Just then Rana woke up
And remembered the reality of his invalid legs,
Being sad and dejected,
He understood that his dream was merely a dream;
With the sore and damaged wings
One can never fly as a blithe spirit in this realm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A dream! ! Muse of the game. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.