Scattered Dew Drops On The Sleepy Grass!

Hey! You hear the secret cries of the pale blue sky
In the morning she pretends nothing has happened
in the previous night.
The tear drops certainly disappear in the Sunrise
And my little orphan girl don't get tired with your cane basket,
Leave the dew aside and collect few flowers for the altar!
She cannot speak but her depressed eyes talk?
'Flowers too wither Grandpa! '
Her gloomy eyes murmured like a sinsong
And the gravedigger hugs her thinking of his far away grand daughter!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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