Soundless nights of the deserted city are in fact
Continuity of the evenings of aloofness,
In the disorder of my voice your voice staggers,
Your splendid features sometimes sink
And sometimes emerge,
The lamps of love are doused,
The candle of pain have been lighted up,
In the mirror; reflections of the previous night
Telling the tale of loyalty, of self-negations
Sink down into the deserted evening.
Written by Ronaq Hayyat
Translated by Muhammad Shanazar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem