There was a time
When I traveled
On the road
I counted on my way
Trees of one kind
And on my way back
Counted another kind
It was always a delight
Seeing all trees
Green and dense
In varied hues
A beautiful hill was
A touching highlight.
My travel remained
A part of my life
But the surrounding
Scenery kept on changing
The road was broadened
Cast in concrete
Trees disappeared
One after the other
Houses and buildings
Appeared in their place
The hill was all dug up
For its earth and gravel.
Life turns out to be
Mechanical as we see
Nature has no say
In development today.
Life has become mechanical, but our emotions are the same, still bloom, brighten up, wilt and bloom again...Thank you for sahring
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In the name of development, Nature is ruthlessly exploited and destroyed. Trees are cut down and concrete buildings come up in their place. To some extent, development is necessary, but not at the cost of Mother Nature's pristine beauty and greenery! An enlightening write!