Bring to me my soul,
drifted away from sweet ore,
gone with the tempest,
left emptiness to the core.
Bring to me one's greatness,
with light brought in transparency,
to one's heart percolated
the humility, once loved.
Bring to me the faith,
reverberating the horizon,
in unison, cajoled all nations,
seaming the threads, loosen,
saving seams with pure breaths.
Perhaps, now, I am only a silhouette,
the hovering greatness of nobody,
the ghost of your well-profound steps,
meeting sunrise, out of my dying breath.
I am waiting my friend,
waiting for silver linings after your rains,
I was your heart of your well-rounded beginnings,
and, the brain you have drained
but, to righteousness, still akin.
I am not expecting of comprehensive return
at least, some patches of my person
to regain my graces and vision.
yet, lost am I in your sunrise;
but, you can save me in my deaths,
by remembering my heart.
I am what I am,
the nun in conscientious wind,
please relive me,
my soul, please bring forth to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem