My Love Between Us  


(Translation of my poem हामी बिचको मेरो प्रेम  (Hāmī bicakō mērō prēm) in English.) 

Me, She and my love between us,

Was not like any fragrant rose,

Neither was it any pain, Nor any thirst,

There was nothing blooming, no beauty at all,

No replication of any dead or alive souls,

It was just the dash, of some futile dreams,

Established base of some demolished desires,

On that base she was mine,

But there was no base for me to be hers.


Me, she and my love between us,

Never hatched out like a chicken (not so warm and cozy),

There was never an empathy between our escalating hearts,

Not even the eye contact,

Neither was there any game of words,

Nor even ever occurred,

Perhaps it was like some lonely ragamuffin,

Nurturing into some trivial,

Kept on growing, kept on swelling,

But didn’t find its space,

Slowly and silently, it emerged, it ceased and finally ended.


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