The universe is going to be destryed
Just before dawn
It's late afternoon of the night
Still engaged I'm with
The nectar of your lips
Nothing to do with this certainty
Or uncertainty of destrution
But I need to finish
The unfinished painting
Which has almost been erased
From our life and mind
I have to repaint the artwork
As all through a lifetime
I'm the wilful painter
On your insatieted canvas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed the way you laid this poem out and worded it