(A Prose Poem by Rasheed Sandeelvi)
The flow of life's river,
At times serene, at times tempestuous.
Sometimes the melody of gentle waves,
Sometimes the screams of wild currents.
This flow carries us forward,
Refuses to let us pause, refuses to let us think,
Buries the longing to look back
In the clamor of the river.
Like fragile homes,
We dwell along its banks—
Weak foundations, delicate dreams,
And the bridge of hope,
Always ready to drown.
This flow, leading us
To distant, unknown shores,
Reminds us
That the river of time waits for no one,
Neither tires nor halts.
Still, every moment,
In search of some shore, some stillness,
We set our boats adrift,
Filled with incomplete dreams,
On an aimless voyage.
Perhaps within this flow
Lies the secret of life:
That to flow is to live,
And to live is to flow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem