Hope leaves
and my vehement desires go in vain-
love has left this life
gifting so much pain.
Indolent life of meaningless passion,
bestowing vague promises
decreases the impression
and the world of admonition.
In that mid day, a strong man came;
He had a smiling face and said, 'Oh, my little son
those days were clumsy-
hope does exist, and now it's your turn.'
I thought a lot-
is he the owner who owns the heaven, and rules the hell?
Well, I have stayed in both;
and now, it's time to follow his glory
He wants something,
and I am ready to sacrifice and sustain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem