Light not a lamp
Upon this grave.
In it may perish
Little flies.
Plant not a tree
upon this grave.
In it may sit a nightingale
and sing a lamenting song.
Write not an epitaph
Upon this grave.
It may fade
In the course of passing winds.
Drop not a tear
upon this grave.
In it lies a living yore,
Iam swept into an unknown shore.
Seasons are my friends,
Every spring is an endless cascade.
Here, the passing winds are mine
The dale of love is synonym.
lovelyyyyyyyy..... a really butiful piece...thnx for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A song of beauty Will live for ever Just added To my Favourites list! Inspiring! So much, that I am uploading a poem 'On reading - Upon this grave by Ravi Panamanna'. Thanks. Angel