Butterflies were yet to communicate with flowers
The balloons were yet to be filled with air
The teddy bears in the toy houses had yet to reach out
The rattles were yet to make a sound
The chocolates were yet to be tested
The joy of the leaves sprouting in the buds
The new words were yet to be crafted for the dictionary
The daggers were yet to be snatched from the hands of the butchers
And the locks of the prison were yet to be opened
The devil was yet to be caged
So many curiosities and mysteries were yet to be revealed
The infinite mysteries of space were yet to be solved
In these very scenes
We had to join
The funeral procession of a newborn
There was no noise of truth and motion
The tradition of burying the newborn gently in the soil
Had been established for
In that deserted place I had seen
A cruel commander
Crying,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem