Having done my homework to start something new,
scrutinizing my thoughts in a queue;
even after this preparation i’am always left with a doubt,
and as usual new words, they never come out
lost in the bleak night of my own thought,
lo! i started feeling like an astronaut,
sailing in the free space that i got,
but for thou i abide and thou appear not
My poetry halts at the gate of thy moor,
screaming like a poor,
in the hope that thy gate will open one day for sure,
and my diseased poetry will find its cure.
Oh! My master in thy presence my poetry finds solitude and seclusion
and my poem reaches an ecstatic conclusion
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You should feel ecstatic after finishing a poem. Thanks, Luqman