I poked my face upon the
Window panes;
Seen the bright blinding
Sunlight;
Busy bees and happy songs
Of singing birds;
The little children's cheerful
And playful runnings;
Gentle breeze of summer's
Lukewarm winds;
That scorched my tear-dried
Tired eyes.
I moved toward the
Inner space,
This four walled room
Provides the cell;
For this poor willful
Prisoner of love;
That can never find peace
Not even rest;
From thy penetrating
Loving gazes;
That took me away as
A prisoner of Love.
(4/23/03. 12: 45 p.m)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem