Milling around in his head
His own limitations of his physic
His own lonely future's bed
If oft man's deepest fear and pain…..
His lack of trust, the very richness;
Of the non- committal feels low plain
Is the pain; neutralized by the holy man's faith?
Which wants to understand or is fighting to understand?
Yet the will and wish of every man; oft turns myth
People become politically inclined; weather and politics common talk
The general discussions of airing our opinions to friends' circle
Surely; trivia will remain trivia; men are not fanatics to stalk
Neither our women naive, I observe
They prefer to play to win too;
Perhaps; this world is Shakespearean stage to better serve
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic finishing. Thanks a lot. Tapas, Kolaghat, West Bengal, India.