Again.....
The lines blurred. And, hesitant with recoiling memory,
She attempted to shake off the pain of loss
That was the past. Beneath seething sorrow,
Dour dregs, in promise's goblet, fed recrimination.
They swirled, unfurled banners of remorse.
Again...
Regret flowed through unremitting nights and days
Like unto a ghost's embrace whispering
Lines, whispering a sentence
As in an unsolved mystery. A love scene emerged
Incomplete on several pages.
Again...
Some excuses flashed on horizon's line.
And as in a mirage, missing in hope's
Parched dessert of time, she scraped
Salt from the acrid lake of her troubled eyes, wherein
Resided reality's alternative future.
Reality, versus status quo, descended as from a storm
Of a hundred years. An idea was born.
In her yielding to its bidding, she nourished
Its promise. And acknowledging power of gift, she
Began to bloom anew... again and again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem