I think of you
and I feel the scent of my mother
my mother, the most beautiful of all.
You are on the carousel of the festival inside me
you hover around, your skirt and your hair flying
Mere seconds between finding your beautiful face and losing it.
What is the reason,
why do I remember you like a wound on my heart
what is the reason that I hear your voice when you are so far
and I can't help getting up with excitement?
I kneel down and look at your hands
I want to touch your hands
but I can't
you are behind a glass.
Sweetheart, I am a bewildered spectator of the drama
that I am playing in my twilight.
Such a great write by Nazim Hikmet....................
The poem presents the love of the protagonist for his muse in a veil of mysticism. It's so fascinating. Thanks.
A beautifully envisioned poem with fantastic flight of imagery and intensity of emotions flowing through out.
A wonderful poem, I kneel down and look at your hands I want to touch your hands but I can't you are behind a glass.
A powerful and poignant write. It vividly depicted the power of love. Beautifully crafted.
Muse of love! ! I feel the scent! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice write.Great poem indeed