The divine fire burns yellow,
While the priest chants
Incantations with flow.
Relatives with smiling face,
Elders with blessing grace,
Your parents and parents of mine,
On operation meeting of minds.
Witness the transformation divine.
And bless for a life of rhyme and chime.
Here I add a tip of sindoor,
On your virgin parting,
And promise, I’ll be the sparkle
Of your life,
Till I’ve throbs in my heart,
Craving in crevices and pores.
In my heart, I’ve carved a special niche
For your wishes, whines and whims.
We’ll walk hand in hand
On the white ice rink
And at every bend.
Or oar against the current
Till the smiling bank.
I’ll always be a tip of sindoor
On your parting,
Allow me a nice on your heart,
Promise I’ll never part
Will never depart
From promised path.
I love you, and love I’ll always expect
From your smile and eyes opal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem