The Poetess In My Dearest Darling.
So many poetess and poets come and go,
Few of them I read, few of them I know,
But my darling Dearest, remains above the rest,
And in all of them she installs her flow.
Her soul-like pen, has psychic-rain,
And condensed-feelings dropp like dew,
Boats of image, with frenzy -rage,
Bloom the color of poetic hue.
My love with her, has no mundane bar,
For a profile -unique is she,
Her abstract graces, by grace embrace,
The ever unequal in me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem