Appeared with the rare golden light,
The mesmerizing twilight,
Like the orange skin,
Almost everyday it is seen.
The rain is the archenemy,
Of twilight to say precisely,
Since it paints the sky with dark cloud,
Wrapping numerous romantic hearts in shroud.
Like a devotee before God’s altar,
I keep praying for that magic moment to appear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem