I used to look at you each and every day.
I used to look at that crescent
Shining on your head.
I smiled at you but you never did the same.
I used to close my eyes
Talking to myself.
Your eyes were always closed.
Were you talking to yourself?
I used to love that window
Through which I saw you every day.
You were sitting and thinking all the time
With your blue sombre face.
Then everything changed!
I began to rise!
My mind has changed a lot since then.
I began to realize who you really were.
You were not alive at all!
Did I lose a friend? …
Something new began after a while.
Construction! ! !
Buildings erected from everywhere.
They hid your face.
From my window, the gate of every hope.
Hope soon died! …
And a bit later, we left that house.
I saw your face in a book after many years.
Were you really Shiva?
Hindu god of Death? !
No! … No! … You were just …
Just a painting on a wall…
That was all you were.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, really like it. A great write. May i invite you to read my poem called, Streets of salvation.