Days run with setting sun-asking my soul,
When shall it join- your holy confluence?
For the stream left with your footprints-
Days preserve your smile-vivid, pristine!
The dusk fresh with chirpings of birds
I find to console, day holds in its arm-
I long for, in floating cloud Over estates,
Fountains melting into smoke, scream!
Oh Muse!
Days I hold dear to this living prints-
Hailing from thunder of afternoon rain,
Arrive -smile-words-eyes all drive
Away from crowd-my world to reunion.
There besides this lonely self-long quest for voice-
Without your hand, left to supreme mercy, will,
In prayers-lamps, when I discover your smile-
Smell, gait-evening calming down, reaffirming soul.
Now I rise, to hold immortality; day close to my beats,
When inert soul finds its voice, dreams-smile and rest
And longing eyes run to your smiles- whisper through my breath;
And teary moistness -soaked in sight, cascaded I see in frost!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem