Awaiting Poem by dipak adhya

It is my heart and its dreamy love
That springs the first rose,
And its fragrance will take
My love wherever it never goes.

My beloved would like to pluck that very rose,
As soon as will she start,
Drink the oblivion in secret
She might be transformed into a heart
That is akin to a rose tree itself.

And there I will live in her green and hectic red
And all the sweetness
Will be enamored with an ecstasy,
It is my dream, with her awaiting to be embodied.