Look over there!
A flood of words is rushing
jostling each other
to get to my poem about you
as festival crowd does
What to do
with so many words!
All this is your mischief
you are a magus
every word wants to become
a part of the poem
a bedfellow, if it could.
Words have their own fancy.
Some want to pick
a relation with your eyes,
some with the honey of your voice.
some experience the pull
of your inviolable peace.
To some, your
virtuosity of all
situations attracts.
Some fall for your beautiful eyes
Some just admire
your inner poise.
some just don't want to take
a leave of your oval face.
There must be some
special magical pull in you
I, too, like the words of
my poem
gravitate to you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem