The moonbeam kissed
the front of your light brown grimace
And it reflected toward me
brightening the dark lanes of my night forest walk.
It dazzled like the pearl in the hands of a sweet love.
The unpleasant roars of grimalkin and wild beasts
When flustered the restful boondocks,
The vines and the new spring sprouting greeneries,
humming duet strum
of endless sweetness
you lifted up your voice
with the rush of whisk
purring magical shower- drops of tune
across the backwoods and tree-shade shelter
till the hedge of obstruction.
The diva was no more,
The chanter of copse and wildwood,
the nightingale was no more.
In this lurid dream of the dark
I would, otherwise,
have been the one broken out in sweat
In the speechless fear of roaring thicket.
Alas! You came and awoke
the dying spirit
lost in the horror of forest
In one of my nightmares.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem