Two Suns in parallel sky-
One in horizon
One in zenith!
Horizon descended
With unfathomable pride
Scarlet- crimson- red;
Turned into a snowball-
A very little one
Loiters alone in the lonely pathway-
Deserted valley of the desolation;
Droplets of ink,
Hidden lines-
And cradled tears of joy
Yearning to fly
Longing for the distant sky;
Soon will spill over again
On the empty street of paper
To pile up
Into a snowball
In quest of wings;
Life's a painting of God;
Paint the colors
Blue-azure-cyan
From the evanescence of morning mist
Or the bewildering beauty of setting Sun!
Only after the demise of old
The wings of new will unfold! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful word picture, as this is from a painter's brush!