My kinds are charades you can see
Always, found lingering in murk!
As someone's prayer get answered –
Within some mist of new-found love!
That ardor lost was never there;
Thus, I did depart sometime back!
But even then, respect was some grime,
That was thrown over my grave!
I did fancy some life for me, but
Always burst like a bubble in the air!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem