Ashes of depression fly over the side of life-pond.
Life humbly woos the light of pleasure.
Many a time promising child courts fiasco on the premises of reality.
Supreme being makes all dance,
Sometimes puts all in tight fence
Rolling over and again
Human child holds head high with the passage of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ashes fly; flying ashes of depression touch the cap-a-pie of time o the chariot of life ancient to medieval, to modern, to post modern mad horse into the inn of mind the flying ashes……///