From your heart of hearts, tell me the truth,
"Don't you have love on me? " Is it fake,
the smiles which tip-toed on your lips?
Is it warped the gleam in your face on seeing me?
A single syllabled, 'hate' you said with ease
when anger held sway at your heart
for the reasons unknown and unheard;
but how deep I sank into atrophy
and remained sleepless with a gloom-ridden face!
With a heavy heart, I stopped all contact with you.
How is it possible for the springs of pity
going dry in a heart fallen in love?
How a heart that felt exhilarated, looking at me
turned into malignant and stone-faced?
Opulent you are in things of beauty;
Malevolent you are in hurting the gentler minds!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem