The moon is singing,
Stars are dancing,
Milky way is tuning,
The guitar of nature.
The poets are writing,
Songs of the birth,
Of a new bright sun,
Who is now too late.
And the mother,
Kind mother universe,
Looks like Mona Lisa,
She is smiling.
Beasts are sharpening,
Blades of their swords,
Improving their weapons,
To kill the sun.
And they are playing,
With the lives of stars,
They are trying,
To break the guitar,
They are outraged in a war with nature,
They are fighting with their own God,
To kill the desire of love and peace,
To stop the tune of mother universe.
Pleasant wind is blowing,
Dense clouds are coming,
For a shower to wash,
The polluted atmosphere.
The cradle still empty,
Mona Lisa is expecting,
I dream, I wish, and I pray.
In cradle I see a newly born sun.
Akhtar Jawad
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-cradle-i-see-a-newly-born-sun/
