Sometimes, I feel,
The faces which seem strange,
Are so near to my heart?
Sometimes, it appears,
The persons, unwanted for me,
Become most important for my existence.
Sometimes, the faces,
Whom I have never met,
Keep on waiting for me eternally.
Sometimes, knowing or unknowingly,
We become so close to strangers
And to be a part of each others existence.
Sometimes, I find,
The imprints of some one, on my face,
As I have a borrowed face.
With other’s shadow lines on my face,
I, myself do not know,
Whether I am a reality or a shadow.
FROM:
DR. YOGESH SHARMA
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem