The irony is, it's the very same person, who gives you
The never-ending laughter and the worst nightmares
The lifelong cherishable moments and a prolonged loneliness
A pleasant smile and unworthy tears
A moment of happiness and agony of solitude
A hope for a new dawn and a song of despair
And now I understood Gibran's words of love -
To be wounded by your own understanding of love
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem