What will you gift me dear?
A milk or a poison?
Oh! My heart can accept the both.
Though they both makes me live little longer in this never ending melancholy, milk may spare me from your memories and move on to find oasis of happiness and peace; poison drowns me into alcohol as an antidote to live little longer to requiem your memories.
Alas! It's better to drink a glass of water and be a passerby as a stalker and a flirt.
I humbly deny your gift oh my dear;
As if a coward running out of a battle field..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem