The Queen Nightingale, Ah! At last,
Flew from the fragrant flowery land,
And the vale of colourful trailing roses,
To the region of eternal peace and bliss.
Her throat poured out voices of heart,
Songs for the depressed, dejected souls,
The sweet echoing mild melodies,
Evoked thrilling emotions of sacrifice,
Assumed a form of invincible defence,
Along the boundaries of sacred land,
Casting spell on the valiant defenders,
Made them think life a cheap commodity,
When freedom, honour are at the stake.
Ah! Departed she, leaving all behind,
Weeping mournful hearts, sighing souls,
Oh! Eyes weep not, dropp tears no more,
For she did well, her songs are with us,
To resound in hearts and valley of minds.
She will live forever, till the world lasts,
But behind a thin curtain of eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem