Accepting ls Life

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‎No illusion, no love;

‎No light, no shadow;

‎No conversation of contentment in life

‎A diagram of the difference is in the paths

‎If I am on this path, you are different

‎The caterpillars of dissatisfaction spread across the cultivated land

‎A fence of weeds is all around

‎There is a severe drought across our Mahananda.

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‎No day, no night;

‎No eyes in the eyes, no hands in the hands;

‎No heart in the flowers.

‎The embryo of love is  bound by the chains of time

‎Seeing from one side of the river to the other

‎The boat of blame floats on the water’s surface

‎The moments of the village play throughout the world

‎Turning the pages of the calendar, thinking of mistakes as flowers.

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‎No moon, no stars;

‎No song of the clouds, no poetry of the rain;

‎No blue sky across the sky.

‎Different planets under one roof.

‎Wrong trees in every corner of the world.

‎The rain of acting is on the branches of the Kadamba tree.

‎Dreams are broken by the sharpness of silence.

‎The rain is pouring down, but the rain is not touched.

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‎No seasons, no cycles;

‎No color of the black peak, no beauty of youth;

‎No tide of excitement

‎The sigh of the night pierces the sound of rain

‎The light is eaten away by specks

‎A bird’s wings lose their life force in the yellowing

‎The lost traveler walks with wounded hands

‎Who knows when the boat will arrive at the pier?

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‎Hang the volcano of mistakes on my fingertips

‎You pass unnoticed, your list of mistakes

‎Arrange the braids of hair on volcanic rocks

‎Let n’t me decorate  the rainy heart

‎Deep love thirsts for spanish cherry to explain the reason

‎The spanish cherry cries, the kiss line on her forehead is a dead river

‎Jasmine wakes up and sees the empty eyes of the morning

‎The sun, swaying in the rain water, melts in the sky

‎I store the pain of the night in the moon

‎The moon of separation melts in the explosion of neurons

‎The ribs spread across the chest in the gust of wind.

‎The tomb of dead memories walks across the sands of the Mahananda 

‎Tears roll down in the eyes of time

‎Tears freeze in the wounded heart

‎The blossoming flower of love loses its fragrance

‎I have to accept it – so accepting is life!