People may ultimately hate,
What they liked the most,
At a particular period of time,
The remnants of happiness,
Wiped and cleaned from the mind,
As that happiness reminds the hurt,
Whatever people like the most,
They will hate it with much remorse,
It may be a bad habit and a bad relationship,
But not at all the love of the loved ones,
They will cherish it, even after neglect it,
For a short and a long time,
Not notice their valuable presence,
People will realize their fault,
they already notice and feel their absence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem