A thorn has visited me,
Barking loud at the sunny dale,
With the iron clod to sale,
Over my broken knee,
'To be or not to be ',
Thats not the question.
The trails are same,
But i have no devils to face,
Out from phase and my name,
Within me, a broken lace,
I can face any man,
But the nought insane,
I find in the drenched prose of mine,
The Lemons, The Libels.
Are upto the heavens,
Can I ever Love! .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem