The jungle was ageless.
Moon drops a hint.
Your poems go in flames.
In dark I had
weaved a dream. You were
worshiping a bystander.
The Ars Poetica took
a turn and became a
message for departing sun.
Republic of pain
signs up to cross the death
after meeting the talking trees.
Who will dance
to celebrate the history
of broken hearts?
a celebration for the pain comes from the souvenir leaf with the snowflakes tear through scarlet flames!
Who will dance to celebrate the history of broken hearts? ............. // What a beautiful expression. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A fascinating poem, sir Satish........10++++++++++