Is it a heart's fault that it is really absorbed
Not by the image of someone from old friends,
Whose feelings should be cherished, developed,
But by a stranger wandering in hot sands?
It does not need anyone else in the world -
Only one traveler who is skilled in the sonnets,
Whose attention this tender heart enjoyed,
Enchanted by his charm, variety of talents.
Enveloped in cold clouds, it has not forgot
His warming gaze, the return of which it so awaits
With the hope of happiness, still not destroyed,
Despite all the smoldering, the painful doubts.
Is it a heart's fault that it's unable to avoid
Someone's magnetic charisma? Is that its offense?
It's not able to heed even being at gunpoint:
It should love whom and with whom be at the distance!
The winter day takes dreams away in a moment.
Beyond the horizon, their pink glow slowly fades...
A stranger isn't sorry who came from the Orient -
There are plenty of girls' hearts in his sultry lands...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem