When I was pursued by your armed father
O my Rosy! You were busy in thy school.
For the assault on me, I didn't bother
but I felt you played tricks to make me a fool.
Much was your love but mine ten times so much.
Your dad but listened to the tales of the kites
and longed for hours without a human touch.
You too were sleepless in my mind in those nights.
When my cruel fate made woeful of my life
The sepulchre of our love built in my heart
drove me off to seek solace from the strife.
There a gentle breeze healed all my grievous lot.
That was how the poor lamb escaped the wrath of fire
and also from the base-born callid men's ire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic narration of internal tug of war and it's aftermath. Thanks for sharing.10 points.