A mistress, the modest, disengaged her servant,
Though he managed her wishes to perfection,
For he had left her for a while. Ardent
Was she to have a substitute in her vocation.
The servant, in his exile, in disarray went
And, stake-less, strayed for his salvation.
Neither of them, in new arena, was content.
Both of them lamented over their ill-action.
16.09.2000, Plkmd
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem