It was hanging on the hooks,
Like my old man’s grey coat,
Who buries his head in books.
Abruptly, I lost my soul, perhaps in the woods.
Like street waifs who can’t take three square meals,
Or afford to pay taxes and bills,
I had taken a walk down the dusty streets,
And Later Went on to the quiet hills.
I’m wretched like a jilted bride,
My soul left me feeling empty inside,
There’s a void in me, I feel hollow,
What’s left with me is piles of sorrow.
My mind has ceased working,
my dark hands have stopped writing,
My body has been consumed in a flame,
I myself, I’m overlooking my name.
Pals are showing up like; Cheers!
Though my eyes are filled up with tears,
I’m partly numb, can’t feel a thing,
Even when the bee gives me a sting.
I’m adjuring any of you who likes to promenade,
Ambling leisurely in your dresses and good suits,
In the forest and plains or around the vast lake,
Picking aesthetic flowers and wild fruits.
If any of you comes across my soul,
Kindly pick it on my behalf,
In joy, I’ll jump up and down like a calf,
For my soul which was lost will be back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem