When I kiss you, my dear,
I have never realized this fact.
When I have kept you so close,
nearer to my heart, I was dumb,
thinking of you most of the time,
and make sure that you are there for me.
When I love you so much,
why did you do this to me?
My lungs are congested with tar,
My odorous skin is pale,
My heart has to work harder,
as the fat clogged the vessels,
persistent cough make me dumb again,
I have to be mended for the love,
that I had upon you.
Why did you do this to me?
How many thousands smoked,
for me to get this return?
How many fights were fought,
for me to end up this way?
Though I read and saw sick people,
I thought I was an immortal.
When you completely destroyed me
it is already too late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a shocking revelation or the travesty of some of our closest relationships going from being highly intimate to becoming a huge burden and a disgusting liability. Really very sad. I thought I was an immortal. When you completely destroyed me Why did you do this to me?