The Days Of Fruitless Love
Who can understand the pains of my solitude?
In this mysterious self-hearted land.
None, but I with similar magnanimous fortitude,
Can partake in my mute solemn band.
I write in honour of fraternal gratitude,
To resurrect those tombed under the silent sand.
The days like Phoenix, rise and dies,
rising again and again, with the first opening of our eyes.
A lonely soul forever it cries,
dumb to sweet singing, blind to beautiful sight and deaf even to the melodious lullabies.
Alone he walks around the earthly mile,
bereft of people, like the ...