‎Tears of the Burning Sun on the Chin

‎Mesfakus Salahin

‎Bangladesh

‎

‎Many  springs’ youth melodies fly away

‎Beautiful days lose their address in pride

‎Butterflies do not touch the mirror

‎Good times are swept away by the wrong current

‎Hungry dreams hang on the wings of grasshoppers

‎The mind of a bumblebee is swaying in the water

‎The lotus and the snail do not tell stories with the pond

‎The tears of the sun burned on the wind’s chin

‎The lover’s cup has stopped

‎The beloved word falls and shadows

‎The breath of the rose sleeps in the silence

‎And our love.

‎

‎Every beauty loses its color, when spring fades;

‎Every spring loses its color, beauty fades;

‎Hiding oneself means

‎Not hiding from the heart of the reality

‎Who in the world wants captivity?

‎Neither you, nor I;

‎To be freed from captivity, the rose flutters

‎Who will give the ransom of its fragrance?

‎

‎Come then, we spread out our mats of hearts

‎And pour life on the back of time.