One grain of Love was all
I asked for
And not the Reapers of Sorrow and Joy
The song-bird in my bosom
I set free
To pluck the chords of my beloved's harp.
As the firmament of glitterring stars
I roamed
In mystic robes of ascetic abandonmnet.
By the ebb and flow of the sea
I loitered
in forlorn melancholy reveries.
As the emptiness of my heart
I lamented
By the altar of my offerrings.
In the solitary pilgrimage of my endearment
I dreamt
Of a blossoming amorous troubadour.
As the pearl in my heart
I polished
With ivory and ebony longings.
One grain of Love was all
I yearned for
and not the Loom of Life and Death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem