Day after day passes,
Your path observing.
My decades vanish.
Someone does not fathom mind's affliction:
I am lonesome, I am helpless.
By day I suppose: "At night You will appear,
Lantern of hope in hand bearing.
On eyelids deprived of sleep,
You will pour a stream of ambrosia."
By night I suppose: "At morn You are coming
With a crimson dawn's glow ruddy.
Light igniting on mountain of east,[1]
You will rid the darkness."
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Sunday, May 21, 2023
I live in constant hope
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But hope is a lonely companion. Please come and make it so.
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