When I will write my last poetry,
Will you be with me?
I don't know,
Nobody knows,
But my great memory about you will always be in my delightful poetic domain
And I believe that will surely encourage me to depict an excellent poesy.
When I will write my last poetry
Will the beautiful birds sing sweet songs for me?
Will the gentle breeze soothe my weary limbs?
Will the pleasant flowers bloom in the magnificent flower trees and spread their sweet fragrance for me?
I don't know,
Nobody knows,
But I honestly feel that my inner poetic realm will always remain true and refined.
When I will write my last poetry,
I don't know how old I will be,
Shall I write with my weak and feeble hand then?
Or, shall I write with my strong and vigorous hand as I am writing now?
Nobody knows,
But I am fully convinced that
My sublime poetic soul will never deceive me,
Never, never, never.........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem