I think only of my beloved
I dream only of my beloved
I live only for my beloved
...
My lips are still burning
from the fire of the kiss
you planted on me
a year ago.
...
Rain on me, my love,
your love:
the garden of my soul
is parched dry from the drought
...
My eyes do not see
My ears do not hear
My senses do not sense
Anything anymore;
...
I write only love poems. All my poems are dedicated to my beloved only. I do not have any other interest.)
Waiting For My Beloved
I think only of my beloved
I dream only of my beloved
I live only for my beloved
when mornings turn into days
when dusks turn into nights
I do not know.
when springs turn into summers
when autumns turn into winters
i do not know.
I write only for my beloved
with my broken foolish words
in my simple schoolgirl grammar
I am not a scholarly poet
I am but a simple, poor
rustic illiterate.
I am waiting for my beloved
from dawn to dusk
I am waiting for my beloved
from dusk to dawn -
each and every single day
of my life.
I have no other desire
in this life.