Blossom of a hermitage; a bloom, still not kissed,
Thrilling even the alter, where it is offered;
Where the lips radiate the glimmer of the rubies,
A composition of beauty of the loveliness of spring,
An embodiment of luscious tender emotions;
The opulence of the countenance, induce me to
Write subtle romantic poems, making me a poet.
Let that song resonate in your lips always.
In your eyes, where the blue ocean ripples,
Blooms a season of parching desires
That impels my soul, and gives me the impetus
To vivify those ardent desires, into words of a melody.
The nymphs of the clouds in the yonder blue,
Bowed their heads in reverence to your sapphire blue eyes.
I wish if I could become a sweet dream in there,
And my love, shoot out tender sprouts in joy.
The buds of roses adorning the morning dew drops,
Wilted after seeing the enviable lips quivering in you.
Let me write a poem abound in love, lurking in those eyes;
Let it sparkle and glisten in them for ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment