Racing,
Stopping,
pulsating…
It’s me thinking,
Of the soft evening breeze
that’s Umma’s voice
blowing my pressures away;
Of the caressing morning sun
that’s Umma’s smile
soothing my nerves;
Of the movement of the graceful swan
that’s Umma’s gait
intriguing my mind…
It’s just me, dreaming!
Today Umma will leave
On a fast plane
And confirm a hopeless truth
That cannot set me free:
Umma cannot love me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem