What could one make?
Of countless emotions
Those bore within thoughts
With each passing-bell of time
Pattering out hasty orisons
What could one have?
From one's binding cage
Of mockeries and contempt
with the tender minds
What could one believe?
Of human prayers and cry
With everlasting wailing shells
With time, with each passing-bell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice poem, Hanif. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.