The only song that is attributed to you,
And the words that create your images,
Enchant me.
The only colour,
That you opt to be clad in, on a certain day,
Enthralls me.
Only those scenes,
Which your eyes have cast a gaze upon;
Captivate my eyes.
Only the flowers,
That beam because of you,
And steal scent of your lips,
Fascinate my eyes.
If you smile, smile the ages;
These stars, moon and skies,
Flowers, colours and seasons,
Fragrance, and the throbbing heart,
And all sights sway in rapture,
Because of you.
My words too,
Formed in verses begin to flow,
In numbers, because of you.
Oh! My beloved: my life, my soul,
How long I should praise you,
For I confess, I am too deficient to reckon,
Your sweet dimensions,
In words and in images,
In metaphors and similes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem