Your eyes are sleepy
They are of nature these days
Your beauty hits the door of a greenish Eden
Of August, September, and October
In our forests.
You are eyes are sleepy
They are a shying lark plays over an ocean in my heart
And my art sees truth, respect, and fulfilment
In your relationship
One may die for a blick of your gorgeous eyes
Are thunderous
Are spares you use to hunt me
Daily
I grow in your love
For a kohled eyes of your face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem