The void was first born on the bed.
I then felt it on land scapes.
Over the green coats of hills,
The clouds dance with the mist,
The suns kiss of swollen earth,
The smells of rains fallen fresh on clays rust.
Now I feel the void in my office drives,
During my lunch breaks
During my times I don't exist.
I wonder has your yearning evolved?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem