I got stabbed a few times
Because I was idiot and willing!
Fearlessly chasing Happiness,
And it taunted my desperation.
When I resign underground,
It calls out my name. Hope!
So I creep out of the dirt - yet again,
Shaking off the sands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
O breath reconsider my death look- the life is poor but richly death is beggarly crying to be near to make love to get a night bed with me! .......... we crafted the words of repeat it like it
Lovely Mahtab. Thanks.