The mood is young,
And the breeze flowing gently,
The ambiance is telling the story -
which is already known.
The tenderness of spring
is calling from the far,
Its tone has lost in the color -
Longing for expected someone.
And the lips of the waves are full with
the stories of faith and understanding.
The thirst is quenched but still remains thirsty;
What sort of thirst is this, I don't know -
Till the day pleasantness of the heart,
Feels not too far or not so near even.
Like a hide & seek game of light and shadow,
Like a fun of this closeness and this distance.
As I want to hold a moment for pleasure
But another one instant passed away.
Of anxiety, of separation: each and every moment
Passed away, making a mark in my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem