Suspicion in love
Is like termite in the wood
It slowly but surely
With sharp small hood
Dusts away severely
All the joy and faith
In the hearts of lovers
And smash all the feelings acutely
Suspicion in love
Is the storm in the desert
Filling all the senses
With the dust of pains
And blinding the loving eyes
With the prickles of cries
Until the entire existence
Of true feelings
Turns into the dunes
Of chocking indulgence
Suspicion in love
Is like the avalanche
Growing every moment
And falling the lovers
From the heights of truth
Into the ditch of sorrow
Rolling away with it
All the warmth of heart
Burying deep into the dearth
So my dear dear love
Have faith in unison
To burn away
The husk of suspicion
Let the smoke of doubts
Disappear forever
Into the sky of intimation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem