As a violet, I picked you up,
Reverently, placed you upon the pulpit,
Hopefully, one day, you would flourish
And yield wildflowers' incense.
Sunray, upon my will, kept on kissing you
Giving hope you would grow up!
Moonbeam, by the gravity of love,
Could not give you a miss.
With a special care, focused on you,
Were GOD'S EYES least to shrivel up not.
Even the breeze, submissively, calls on you.
Jealousy that only genuine bond does rise,
Would envy:
The sunray,
Moonbeam
God's eyes,
And the breeze.
But all buffeted by the wind! !
Your inner glow, no more than A BIG LIE
What makes the difference -
you are engulfed in pleasures of life!
I am overwhelmed by conservatism!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem