Along the coffin
The last pilgrimage
Row of people in wiping tears
In sight the silent dialogue of black veil and white roses
That slept Mahal
Suddenly found
Her mouth smiled
Scared I, she opened her bright eyes
Listening to 'Cold Night in Moscow'
A crystal ball
Drifting gently toward the dome of skylight
In the church
Condensed with music
She fled in the earthy cave
Cast away the veil
Cast away the white roses
Pink cheeks
Excitement with sweat dripping
Her soul flew
Toward the poet's lover
Waiting for her in the sky
Her only remained shawl
Cover the waned moon
Slept
Lest the moon should catch cold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem