Saturday, November 15, 2008
The spring squabbled with you,
For having robbed its fragrance away
To your enamoring lips.
And its exquisite bouquet of hues,
As rainbows lay concealed in your
Imposing cheeks and inviting eyes.
The rubicund lips might have blossomed
In a rose flower, ruddy with intense desires, which.
I have enslaved, along with her undying love.
Dreams are alive when in slumber;
And also when awake, their presence is felt.
I will soar up to heaven in my body, on the wings
Of such a dream, and find my beloved,
Sitting under a tree on which the stars blossom,
On the banks, of a brook in paradise.
She will be always with me, caressing and
Holding my fingers, in adoration kissing them,
And embracing me, leaning on my chest.
When the translucent clouds gently breeze up,
To immerse us in jubilant intoxication
Of exotic exultation, and nirvana…