Love Poem by BIBHAKAR DUTTA
Love
Everyday I write new lines,
everyday I write few lines of love;
but words still remains too short
to define the this eternal word.
It's not enough to scribe meaning of love.
Every time I select a new sense,
but it turns into another intent.
Yes, so hard to destine the word,
my hand still seeks the true meaning of love;
my dictionary is still a kid to define the word.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 10:39:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
