The sacred fire
Became the pyre,
As aspirations of love circumvented,
Rising as if it were a phoenix;
A bird reinvented,
My love flew away, like an emancipated lark;
With the ashes of the burning ember.
Love to ashes,
Lust to dust
A bird with new wings,
Death of desire
Free from the plight of rite and night
With no need to fight.
Love dead;
As if it were a suffocated fire,
Once again freed from a mire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem