In the city of love there the rumour
Recession irrespective of knowing
Reading minds or signs appearing
After the fullfilment of desires
In flood of the morning lights
We do not face each other for long
What is written in real is away
What we want to see in illusions
When the expressions on the face
Were cut as if by the sharp scalpel
Time and rough winds were making
Cleaves as in fiery speaches speaking
Heart with glow in the eyes holding
His chest was not torn what was sought
Delightful person in gaberdeen
His neck tie was loose of silk
Of Fumigalis from anceint Italia
He still lost it to time when beyond
In stretch the imagination's forrays
Some more makeovers before the last
Like the Golden King I need a face
For all weathers and beloveds alike
Under the old bunyan tree when birds
Forget me for a bark of tree in sunshine
I shall return to the youth of days yore
Just to burn again and be as I am
Today but after many tomorrows
When every one was satiated with wine
I was waiting for my turn in the tavern
Never to come back but again I asked
Shall tomorow be at sunset the gathering
For I shall have my first goblet as my hopes
Whirl up in my head and my heart sings
Song of the evening to behold the scene
25/2/2009
I loved this poem! It is nosyalgic, euphoric, delving into the western and eastern realms of poetry with ease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
like the night does not fall my dear....it is only your eyes that call.....yah! so beautiful poem....like goddess of nightingale allure the heart to settle and listen to the sweet melody of the soul....my beats rise to the point of emotional ecstasy.....thank you my dear friend...and may God bless you... a star and a 10 +++++ for great poem.....