O lord, I am suffering;
My skin bears no bruise,
Nor do I have a disease,
I am suffering from the ailment of the universe;
From the stillness of the leaves in the blowing wind,
Silence of the cicadas in the spring,
Cry of the drooping sunflower,
Flickering gleam of the stars,
A tiny speck of this mammoth cosmos;
Separately, my being is incomplete,
My eyes roll wherever, my lord,
I can feel nothing but pain.
Addition: A 10++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ for this exclusive jewel. Much success in your poetical future. This poem flows instantly from the painful heart to the bruised surrounds. Only the strongest will survive. Thank you for this alarming heart's message, most important.
True beautiful poem. Well thought and well worded. Sheer poetry full of tender senses and melancholy. Thanks for sharing this excellent poem about human tragedy. Poet's pen is more than we think, it can cause revolutions, and deadly wars. Keep writing, dear poetess, your ink is full of precious gems. Regards from across the oceans.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Jaya, A very profound write. Expressing angst of one’s existence. The images used in the poem augments the feeling.. “”stillness of the leaves in the blowing wind, Silence of the cicadas in the spring, “” Congratulations, Jaya. Well done.