Where is life if not here!
Her silvery skin spreads
with the morning sun
I inhale the scent of her nubile youth
in air
night falls like a cascade
of the braid of hair
she smiles on every flower.
History says
she is in every age;
she is, was not, is not, was.
No need to get and touch.
Reality invites her to my dream
and
dream is an entrance to my tomb.
Oh! I am happy everywhere
Was she or not
Is she or not
will she be or not.
I found her, find her, will find her
In the ocean of my love. Keshadurapal’29-11-2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem