there is no poetry to write
even as with one night
the dance that was shared
rocked the room that was bare
and no music could match
a passion shown as such
all desires fanned a flame
in a very silly game
but should the mindless pen
reign over mindless men
all the sorry lines shall flow
hints of emotions in the brow
and no drink could erase
an affair's bitter aftertaste
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem