Much of my world is within.
my beauty
my fragrance hidden,
like a secret turmoil seething -
search for a vent
to pop out and kiss light
on wings of air beaming;
the barb-wires prick me,
stray bulls try to munch me,
alien twigs punch me
and greedy hands try to pluck me
without an ear
for the music that murmurs
in my virgin chest for the eager drops
from the eye of the sky that in frenzy rolls
to hug my soul in blinkers.
I know my salvation lies in my martyrdom.
hence let me bloom more and more
before I die in the bosom of my lover;
or my petals wither under its shower.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem