The rest of the work here is
sedentary, boring, and if it were a piece of bread
so bland and tasteless
fit for the molds,
but there is an instance in our lives
where we see a scenery that makes our soul fly like a butterfly
soft to the wind
silent in space
fluttering in utter calmness
i grab it
and focus my attention to this moment
when by mere looking
at some particulars, colors of green, hues of red,
shades of brown
scents of flowers spreading at night
full moon
fresh wind, sea breeze
silence and that state of being complete
and then looking back at you
missing me (i may so think)
and i thinking of you again
(as loving me)
the distance cannot provide that space
of loneliness
the heart longs,
the mind fills in
through its
imagination
about us again, reunited in love,
and then feast on the gifts of lust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem