Talent,
you never cared to realise,
would have taken you up
to higher, still higher heights,
where
the fiery sun, the tender moon,
quiet stars brush colours
on the life's majestic canvas.
Yet
life we live in our stride
from the threshold to the end
of the long labyrinthine road,
making
every moment a fresh voyage
that holds out promises
of another world, keeping
aflame
the endless quest of spirit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
With the muse of the tender Moon. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.