The memories of the days I moved and moved with you
Emerge,
From a point where words struggle to express;
Your voice is heard
From a point where nothing can be heard;
Your face emerges, shining
Out of a point where nothing is visible.
Let those who are merely made of
Flesh and blood,
Let those who are made of papers and documents
Forgive.
Even a grass has its identity of its own
As you always say
Exploring into treasure of human values.
You are no more
Yet, you are seated in a throne
Embedded with jewels
In a cottage made of cadjan leaves
I feel you as the breeze passing by
I see you with things of beauties all around.
And I am proud
You were with me, sharing things and drinks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I see you with things of beauty, good write.