Monday, 4 May 2009

Thereafter

Tiny leaves are falling,
Pollens of flowers are spreading...
Wind is sobbing,
Trees and leaves are weeping...
A flower carpel is trembling,
And sliding away from the brink

The poem was translat by Fathima Ishrath

1 comment:

Narada said...

Very Intersting! one of my favorite (that you gave me!)