I HAVE CARED
My hope remains,
Through my devotion, she attains
The zenith where she is, so free
No fear or danger she may see
Above charade of Time and Man
Such a being,
Who yearns for me.
She self-effulging too may be.
Through countless facets I may
Enter her
And tinge her in many a shade
My musing may draw her to me,
She may rejoice and woe.
When my musings flow.
Even when away
She may mingle her being with me
And may such a moment be,
When she,
Despite all her endless tasks
Mayhap in a quiet Café
About Keats and Byron asks.
Or the Beatles melody
And Thomas Hardys Tess as well.
Now my eye in tears may be,
My pain is so deep
Upon me many ardours steep
And may she know.
The grief that she does well bestow
Upon some winding pathway,
With trees ablossom,
And in the golden night, when she,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem