Friday, February 8, 2008
The ocean reflecting the splendor of the evening sky
Lured the sun and swallowed it.
The tears of the earth, on the lost warmth of the sun,
Turned into sparkling blooms.
Next morning it will again enlighten the mouth
Of the caves, and bring new grandeur.
Who wins last? Death or birth?
Why the withered flowers weep, in reminiscence
When the moonlight caress them?
The longing in the heart was covered with silence,
Wrapped up in rapturous quivering.
The words eager to be spoken, kept choked in the throat.
The flowers of my ill-will, hidden in the mind,
Swooned and fell down.
You wander far away, as a smoldering memory
in my soul.
I am always searching you, with grief in
My heart, all over the way.
Like the heart of a flower, trembling with pain,
Waiting for the golden tinge of the morning sun.
Tell me, where you are gone after your swansong.
At last, to fall down in the barren earth,
The love we cherished for long.
This guitar can now shed only rueful notes
After the fatal kiss you have adorned.