until then
i have never wished that
you be me
or i be you
it is simply impossible
the years are telling
their heads are shaking
and so we walk separate
ways in our
lonely choices
if at all we meet again
it is only desire which decides
that, if ever it is still there
in the house of our
longings
let us wait for the birth of
another year
let us hear its cry
and it if recovers its wisdom
or just even its consciousness
let us keep our fingers
crossed
who knows?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem