This age is of love, suicidal love when will be coming
I made love with foreigner, know nothing of her returning
The flower which oozes out bee does not look at her
People think me mad let my life be ended expecting her
I made love alone, so clap less singing goes on
Like a dead body I smeared with dust took grave as own
Due to swollen love of sky river goes on flowing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem