Something is set on fire
It smells, tell my nostrils
But the eyes deny, I See
Neither the smoke nor the object
Perhaps it is the handkerchief
Kept secretly in my iron chest
Without notice it catches fire
Even without match sticks
Let it burn a little as it will
Make little hard, but it hurts
The eyes are dry I neither douse
Nor throw the handkerchief out
As it does not have any end,
Just see how the ashes fly.
A handkerchief may be the symbol of anything...abstract or concrete and smoldering without smoke.
Every hanker heart is setting on the fire fire of desire Chief well done and the taste is wild sweet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this handkerchief could be emotions on fire and smoldering. If a metaphor it is well used dear poet. nice work. I like it