One day if he be poet,
Read his poem and poems;
He would carve your name and names
And would draw a picture and pictures
Of a futile failure of prolonged LOVE.
And then, throughout the stormy night
Let your flooded eyes pass to perceive
The pages of deconstruction of love
With chain of signifiers and signified.
And then, when dark dawn would turn morn
Would you not find his blur face of faded joy
In the broken mirror of your hot cup of tea of Troy?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting with some sophisticated poetic allegorical tricks staged right within stanza to stanza.
Thanks for your valuable observation....I am elated