Once I was everywhere
Places where you and I roamed,
Our stories were sang by the wanderers
Written in slender papyrus with spilled inked quills,
And whispers would only echo our names in every soul.
Once we were the wanderers
We've roamed every lonely valley of dreams
There every soul pleaded for love,
Yet amending for their endless sins.
What sins have they made?
For what thee punished with not being loved?
For what their heart bled and fade?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice poem, Alavi. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.