Never ask a river about her age

Never ask a river about her age

A river surveys life
Measures experiences
Gathers seeds
Row or ripened

Sometimes in the moonlight
Uses to talk with the stars about the Sky
Or follows the tune of a yatch– heard or unheard

Sometimes
Recalls the stories
Stored in her bosom

Sometimes a river opens the sack of long conversation
Sings the myths
One by one
In a low voice

The shadow in the deepest corner of a river
Is always mysterious
Can’t be declared firmly
So in every step
A river has to face velification
Needs verification of her actions

Though there is no any plan to be a dead branch
Leaving the currents
Has to carry the sheet of disrepute

Still
Never ask a river about her age

A river ,like a woman
Is the primitive academy of life ……