The forged chains,
The forced gains,
The forsaken lanes,
The forborne pains,
It all heavily rains
In the fields of vainness
And futilely drains
Going down nameless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In a nameless life, where pain and vain are calling the shots and all gains are going to drains in forsaken lanes during rains, we are bound to lose our brain. Interesting poem inspiring me to write some random lines. Thanks, JSA.