In the garden of my poetry
I buried tearful sorrows,
As the remnants of my Love
Flew away with autumn swallows.
To the empathising winds
Alone I cried my loneliness,
As my shivering soul rested
In the empty grave of happiness.
I wandered aimlessly in search
Of my elusive Love’s endearment,
Amid romantic interludes
As my heart lay cold and dormant.
I was an orphan child of Love
With withered flowers in his hands,
Where my delusional dreams
Were washed away in weeping sands.
But then, the colourful caravans
Of amorous incantations,
Announced the renewal of Spring
With its loving exaltations.
And the cruel dice of destiny
Then came knocking at my heart
With a Rose and with a Violet
I could never love apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem