Starting with a sunny era,
Dream to travel and mind to cold.
Never miss a sun kiss,
Until we became old.
Jump into a moon
With tears in eyes
Along with the last boon ;
Farewell with cry.
Turning again to step in heaven,
By throwing dry leaves
And leaving a hope or the coming eves.
Clod breeze starts to blow.
A drop of water inside heart,
Starts to flow.
Turning weak and old
But........
Rising my head,
Throwing my sight over the flowers
My glowing child ;
Whimpered and smile.

_Barnita karmakar_