What shall I call thee my love
A flower that bloomed, but for me in vain
A gift for me from the Lord above
Or someone born to shroud me with pain
Art thou the one, born for me to be
Suffering beneath thy gift of hate
In my despair, who finds much glee
My suffering, life’s cruel work of fate
What harm to thee have I ever done
For you to walk away from my heart and mind
It is always a loss, dear, don’t gloat over victory won
True love, one day would I certainly find
For Good over Evil will find its way
Alone I will trudge, till I reach that day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem is a reflection on the ways of the world. It is a pity when love remains a one sided affair. But, may the truth prevail and the hope bloom. The following quote is revealing: For Good over Evil will find its way