She is a girl,
Born thousand years ago
In a rocky-cave of a distant mountain
She is a girl
With flesh and blood
Sometime weeps and sometime laughs.
She is not born for death
Like the mortal human beings,
Suffering unending misery and pain.
A patch of her shadow
Filled my life with never-ending happiness
In a lovely winter evening.
Her every advent
Was a moment of sheer joy for me,
Standing on the edge of death.
Suddenly a violent wind came
And she hid herself
In the very deep jungle.
Now I gaze at the mirror
And rummage her shadow
In the ball of my rolling eyes.
Standing on the mouth of death
I feel her love from the core of heart
Like the fragrance of blooming flowers
When the whole world will die
Nothing will remain
With a blooming flower she will come again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful poem, Lost girl will appear with blooming flower, Nice positive ending, I enjoyed it.