This tiny raft of song,
I'd been adrift on blue of sky.
Oh You, my tune's companion, Who did come,
Having said this boat You'll ply?
It's like somebody speaks asudden;
At the time of grief it happens.
This pilot, He lies hidden,
Having said naught inside mind.
His details He does hide,
Nothing He says identifies.
Repeatedly He just replies:
"Myself You brought, love's pull thereby."
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Are You the product of my yearning, or am I Your object of desire?
ReplyDelete