The Last Train
Late night's train whistled and
Black smoke tells about the silent dynamics
on the way to the eternal journey.
At length, the expected journey begins;
Tiredness comes through faltering but still running out of breath
Echoes in the halo-forest sign me all the way.
Slowly the left-junction reminds me
with all emotions and huffs left behind -
sweeping deep into the depth of thoughts; covering the thoughts,
Between the half-dead and the half-awakening of the branches
the remote destination I easily find.
Occasionally it persuades me to drag the chain of the train
And destroy the journey of the eternal path-
But the question arises
Is there any necessity?
Back in the face of the spring, I understand
Someone is eagerly waiting for my arrival.
I Join with all the whistled-tunes
All flags are illuminated;
Though the road is infinite and narrow
Finally, I whisper: wait ...surely coming
It's probably tomorrow.
The poet is a banker