Last night, a wild wind
Banged on my windows,
Entered and whispered
In my ears, “The Spring will
Desert you today, never to come.
Stars will stop blinking
And Moon won’t shed its light.
Flowers will refuse to bloom,
To make the environ minus fragrance
With music discordant, prosaic
And with no trace of melody”.
I couldn’t believe my ears, ‘Coz
I am conditioned not to live in
Rain, neither in Summer, nor in
Winter, but in SPRING only.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem