I always think my journey might be ended,
The power of my thinking might be closed
Might be I am exhausted,
The way before me is dead.
After a while I realised that,
Thy know there is no ending of my thought
If the old words die out,
The new words will imerge from my heart.
If the old tracks are lost way
The new tracks will find their way
They can come and take shelter, may
Be they will reveal new wonders anyway.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem