Erase these prolonged merciless marks on the moon, turn to me
The mirror of this broken window breaks the tune, turn to me
The carpet of damp lashes have decked up anklets at their ends
To celebrate the monsoon in the month of June, turn to me
The sun is sizzling, so is the pulse running down my fibres
No good is butterfly when cozy is cocoon, turn to me
Can unruly flirting flame of love ever be merciful?
When a sigh on this prayer rug serves but as boon, turn to me
The dust of desires has ruined the skeleton of my sketches
How shall an ephemeral wish lifts a balloon, turn to me
On an island of austere lovers, the surreal gushes
Scorn a frozen wish to let it go as maroon, turn to me
No way a beggar ever be served in the tavern at night
Where the wanting eyes deck up as the only spoon, turn to me
Stay at the bay of sea to see a tide carrying the love
For a wandering wind shall sign a new pact soon, turn to me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very much enjoyable with perfect syllable counts...full score