So many years are gone,
You did not come.
The tender years’ blessings return.
So many years my friend, -
The Springs are undone..
Mind stretches its canvas,
The body suffers the draught,
The desire recalls the embrace,
With breathing calm.
I am in a boat, with no mariner,
In the West, stepping the sun,
My waiting turns into spreading lea,
Oh! You don’t come, you don’t come.
Widow never I were,
Nor my hearth was without fire,
Yet for you bedewed tears, -run,
Dismay is the Spring, dreary is the fun.
Oh! Timeless Love, for you timeless I turn!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem