No dictionary could decode,
No lady yet could make you feel,
The day and night revolve still!
All adventures with promising hope,
Have run for fun and nothing else,
The heroes and cowards both hang,
The wastage of dusty tales.
Heightened Imaginations just could reveal,
Some silver lines of God,
You sing aloud your poetry, they praise,
But the bed of true abstract, you foolishly miss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem