When does someone rings the bell,
Oh it’s a hope that words can’t tell…
I run towards in a hope to find,
You standing and waiting behind...
I open the door and find someone else,
To ring even my hope not just doorbells…
At five O’ clock, when do I cross that lane,
The hope that you too will cross gave me pain…
When do I hear a bicycle’s horn,
That hope in my heart does reborn…
When I look back in a hope to see thou,
Someone else is there and I ask my hope how?
When I hear the sound of a postman inserting a letter,
I still hope that this may be yours to feel much better.
I go and pick each letter in an eagerness to see,
And when I reach the last one I hope it may be of thee…
When do I find that the last letter isn’t thine,
I blame that blind hope that was only mine.
Now only thing I can hope is to dream you while sleeping,
And when on dreams I do always hear the sound of weeping…
I can still remember after so long that this voice is thine,
And I try to search you just to make you calm and fine.
Even in my dreams, my hope is hearted but blind,
So even then, I can just hear you but cannot find…
I can just hear, but cannot find, wonderful. You are really the hope, my son.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Honest with a deep passion of a love that is so true and that sort of love hurts, when we lose our beloved. Superb write! !