you wake up one morning
after mourning for love that whole night,
you wake up one early morning,
to such a beautiful sunrise, to such
a beautiful landscape of hills and
skies,
to the sounds of chirping birds, on
trees, to the scent of morning blooms,
you realize, such a mourning for love
had been fruitless, unnecessary, and
irrelevant, and you walk outside the door,
basking yourself under such a warm sunshine,
embracing a space, hugging yourself finally,
your only self, your best friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem