O love,
Fire would die one day.
All we would be left with is,
Ashes.
Rainbow ashes of colourful desire,
Pale ashes of broken dream,
Flaming ashes of amorous verse.
There would be
No more walk on river bank
With your hand in my hand,
No more wild desire
To smell flowers of your bosom,
No more dream of wild shiver
In secret of night.
Human life is mortal, fragile,
And painfully empty!
Even the sweetest of the memories
Fades into oblivion
One day.
Even the sweetest of the kisses
Dies in thirst of love
One day.
So while the fire is still on
Let us burn ourselves in it.
Let this fire paint on us
Wound of such an wilderness
Time dares not remove it.
Let this fire hurt us so badly
Fragility of senility dares not erase it.
Come, on this river bank tonight,
You and me
Ignite some fire
And burn ourselves in it.
© Arun Maji
Painting: Pierre Coomas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A brilliant poem on love has been so touchingly delineated in philosophical outlook. I appreciate the way of presentation. Thanks for sharing with nice graphic.10