Until I found you,
I wrote verse, drew pictures,
And, went out with friends
For walks…
Now that I love you,
Curled like an old mongrel
My life lies, content,
In you….
[From Summer in Calcutta]
Unfulfilled aspirations seek for fulfillment is the thing and this is true in respect of it. When she was without a partner, she used to write poems, love-letters, she used to paint and draw the images just like an artist, a portrait-maker. But now the heart wants it not. Ideas come to the mind not.
Love gies stability. Love sustains us. What life is it if one is loney and alone? There must be someone to look after. There must be someone to give compnay to.
Now after finding love, she is feeling it content. It is also a fact that love is but mutual affection. Contentment in love comes after one gets paired otherwise it keeps straying like a vagabond.
A man keeps writing poems, dawing images and pictures and love is as such, but the moment it gets satisfied it becomes content. That vagabond nature draws closer to and gets it transfixed.sixed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In love people do many a things and you did something unique