The leather sofa
weatherbeaten still stands,
your impression even now persists
You haunt me.
The toothbrush stand
still holds yours,
the half used soap in its dish
You haunt me.
Your favourite glass
even your half drunk bottle,
are still waiting for you
You haunt me.
The book by the bed,
is dog eared by you,
it waits to be read
You haunt me.
Between the sheets
Your smell lingers,
The creases remain
You haunt me.
In every room,
I can feel your presence,
as real as life itself
You haunt me.
As i bow
before the icons of Gods,
I can feel you at my shoulder
You haunt me.
The vase is empty
flowers have a short life,
soft hands are remembered
You haunt me.
The watch remains stuck
you had broken it in anger,
it ticks without moving
You haunt me.
My breath mingles
with yours of years gone by,
the tears dropp slowly
You haunt me.
this poem is so sad and so beautifully written, it haunts me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
One has to reconcile to the realities of life! Wisdom demands it!