The burglars strike at locked houses,
smile at the bureaus to open
and walk away with gold and cash.
The militants storm the prisons,
make sudden sallies on the cops
and break out with the life convicts.
The divers plunge into the seas
and come up with rare, precious things.
From deeper mines, they take out gold.
Have you ever heard of a damsel
leaving off the heart of her lover?
Be they monks but their hearts aren’t blank.
Lie they in the hearts of the chooks,
though their love banned and heads tonsured
and married to bathe in wild streams.
Though severed by the cruel fate,
they love more than ever before.
Till their hearts stop, love flaps its wings.
They aren’t infatuated with touch,
to taste and fall into oblivion.
Winked to smell and linger in hope.
Don’t nip the buds of love with lust.
Remorse from your good heart will burst.
Trek up to earn and step up to wed.
Man discriminates but God doesn’t.
Love deep to live with them for long.
Be a soul of human life of mirth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what a wonderful imagery love this one A+