The Deserted Spring.
Is it the place where you live?
Is it where you keep?
The secret treasure of your heart,
And eat -away night and day,
Aloofing yourself in alarming alert.
Haply here where your Other dwells,
And in deepening tranquility whispers His tale,
Here you wait with longing lingering eye,
Here with anguished frenzy your drought -eyes cry.
Ah! withering spring but time-borne azure,
The assured assurance, He would come sure,
Here where flashes the presence of your secret share,
Here your lone grows and the grandest Lone bears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The deserted spring is a master piece of work and very nice poem. It is the place where we live. Truly said.