decades diluted;
as if it was
the very morning we had met
and seen each other again
in the late afternoon
there was no rush of blood;
blood in the veins flowed
like a serene sacred river
in which dissolved the decades
how can one ever explain
the mystic bond that connects
one to people and situations?
nothing ever goes
everything in the affairs of
the world and beyond
simply moves in cycles...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem