Had been gazing for long,
The moon,
At the sea-water,
Listening to the tranquil song.
The wind didn't roar as the harp,
Nor did the clouds quiver any fuming fleece,
In deep slumber the storm-birds were,
Though pale, the moon did look sharp.
An owl was busy defying the darkness,
Got much help from the ray of orb of night,
Looking for a lost victim to grasp,
Everything there was save the lyre of Timotheus.
Poseidon was on leave perhaps,
Letting the water to cuddle,
The moon with elation,
Utterly overpowered was the distance.
The silvery beauty was for departure bound,
The dawn of Aurora lingered to twinkle in the orient,
Since the cruel saw of time never pays heed,
Thus she vowed to meet later without a sound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An owl was busy defying the darkness, Got much help from the ray of orb of night, Looking for a lost victim to grasp, Everything there was save the lyre of Timotheus. very good poem and the lyre of Timotheus. thank u dear poet. tony