A wanderer never stops, always summons his way,
The thing he only notices― how the leaves sway.
The journey seems unending; and it has to be made,
Somewhere, he has to reach; before the paths fade.
So, he buries the tears.
The memories he fears.
But a face in his mind, refuses to stay behind.
Some day, the face will find him; satiate him with desire.
A wonder, a miracle― he craves to the soothing zephyr.
a wonder, a miracle - really this world. good write, go on. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
One day we will all reach where we are going. A great poem.