Youthful Moon seems pure and holy-
Rises to reign the night's east hemisphere,
Being lonely, I sing the song of melancholy,
Deserted I am in the mood of despair.
Lonely as the holy Moon, but your charm?
Yes, I am nothing like you,
Thousands of nights cuddled in your arm
But still, you look pure and new.
The heart that used to love-
Had died long ago in my breast,
My complexion grew dim and pale,
My eyes are without rest.
Am I older than you, Moon?
Living before the birth of mankind?
Heavier my soul with the burden of sins,
Curse, that fell upon my mind.
You hide beneath the Earth,
With the approach of dawn,
When I suffer from soul-wound,
Solitary, dry-eyed I moan.
You are thrilled with joyous pleasure,
Which makes you desirous and bright!
No hand to hold, no heart to love,
For me it's always an endless night!
Moon, the desirable princess of sky,
No comparison between you and me;
Me, the forgotten worrier of life,
Prideless, that all I can be.
Yet, your solitary tune,
Harmonizes with the song of me,
Just like the stream of river,
Runs to mingle with the waves of sea.
well-expressed, Rehnuma....... a perfect 10++++++++++++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The moon is a perfect companion of a lonely heart- no one else to look forward to. Thanks. Being lonely, I sing the song of melancholy, The heart.... Had died long ago in my breast,