Who could hold back her heart,
as when the flute calls it forth,
Let the air be her chariot and
steal her away from herself.
Who is the one that rises the tide
within a sleeping heart?
Who is the one that keeps singing
the eternal love song?
How is the pain that still feels sweet,
and he never stops from singing,
The fields or farm, nothing can hold him back,
his work goes in vain.
What is it that happens inside him,
he keeps all again thinking,
Now a days he is not to be found
amidst people or crowd of singing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome work. Great imagery with nice style. Great write indeed. I rate it 10. TFS. Please read and rate my poem 'A humble complaint' on page 2