I was looking on and on at children playing

Beside a distant gate, while my mind wandered

away, spreading its branches far far into

horizons of some other world-

one day when I drop from the branch their

children will occupy that branch they

will blossom their own flowers. They will bear their

own fruit and enjoy their honey. They too

will drop one day.

Men, women, and children all the families keep

Coming into the streets and going back into their

Houses. It is all this much, going into the sun

from the shade and going back into the shade

from the sun: like shadows of clouds thrown

on the earth like the dreams of the roads-

all of us leaves, born to some tree. All of

us are flowers blossoming on one branch. All

of us leave everything and depart, giving place

to some others:however,living our own life time-

who can stop this gigantic wheel hurtling across

the void of the universal space.

It emotionalizes man’s centuries, it kicks up

History like dust on the roads. What hand can
Overcome its unconquerable power?

O fate - reader , set aside all your calculations and callendars
O political Overlord throw off your loudspears
Listen , even the old tree blossoms new flowers -