My diary
Vacuous fill the pages
Pages are blank
All tacit, unwritten fuss
Signs of hot tears
Sprouting therein.
They speak me
Feel me unseen pangs
Every now and then
Something important
Very important
Till end of my life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Vavccus fill the pages.....pangs of hot tears. Short but pathetic.