Eight and half months he waited, still a month too early it seems;
For her, it was just the perfect, both event and place it feels;
For him, that evening was cloudy, a crimson sky covers the gloom;
For her, a sun-tanned noon tiring, melting roads, half dried bloom;
He has the tarai of the Himalayas, here sun n clouds plays in whimsy;
She has her land of splashing rocks, here froth n salt juggles in symphony;
Twenty years passed like a flashing, he grows strong n curvy in sun n rain;
A painter must have sleepless nights, her beauty is now an irresistible frame;
That evening there were stars bright, when both grasp tight in untamed desire;
No trues can weave a truth better, when both cuddles to define Love n fire;
An unfriendly crowd sucks in both, all shuffles to form an order of game;
The shadow forms the padlock chain, dragged by neck, both in untold shame;
Give them both a vanquished name! all shouted n hooted together as if to claim;
Aphrodite weeps in vain! No! none to refrain! Be Love only a blood game!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem