Evening
How is my sweet evening!
Hair is playing with breeze, wicked breeze.
Oh! Young lady
Awaiting for a devotee with a beaten rose
Hero of your dream
As converses with reticence of sky.
Oh! Young man
Forgotten pretty human
Reality of moving earth.
Intend to invite a boy
Green mouth with a Red hand.
-R.Amin
Bangladesh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem