Chronically in love, one despises the acute diagnosis,
A life long habit turned to diagnostics
In a misplaced, misinformed place of imprisonment,
But my Sita has moved on
Caught by Ravanna's stories and stares,
So I must this realisation on me reimpose
To free me from the bonds of love
And let me soar and be free like a turtle dove;
No more in the jungles of my despair
Haunt the echoes of the constricting air.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem