For me,
Love is nothing but a curse;
Unfulfilled love fills the night,
Endless wait for my love,
To take its place on my bed.
Life buries me deep in unyielding solitude -
I pine and try but failed to fill the space,
Love and contentment,
Healing the scars,
Left by sad memories.
Like grass on a river bank
but dying for water,
my eyes searching for love -
But only getting,
Vast bareness.
Like a prostitute, pain returns
and pine to share my empty bed at night -
Leaves me gasping with nakedness
and tears too dried up -
To this poor and thirsty soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem