I am lonely and still

I am lonely and still without you, the river and stream, 

Only the emptiness of your absence, only the turbulent soul, murmuring and mumbling in the crumpled world,

But I shall come to you, like a river to a refilling and recondite ocean,

The heaven gates are open for me, the light of my soul infuses into your blazing eyes,

Fields and forests and their birds, colorful butterflies colored by the glided moon hastening towards your permeating eyes 

And I can hear your dulcet voice from the tongueless moments, and you are calling my name,

and weeping from river to sea telling the woeful song of our separation in the far-off snowy valleys 

And you peeped unto your sublime soul, 

And whispered into the ears of mottled flowers, 

Shall the moment of parting be the moment of reunion, confluence of creative rivers, 

And what shall I offer you except a few white flowers, or a poem deep, cosmic, and unlimited? 

Shall my love turn into an abysmal sea with depth like a Marianne trench that I may lose and come to you, for eternity, 

And shall my love overflow for you like a string of Veena that I may fill the fissure between being and love? 

Am I an innocent flower that you may touch by your tender hands, or a nimble breeze melting into your fragrant breaths? 

A lover of mystifying poems I am, and what poem have I found that I may share with you, in deeper gaiety and cheerfulness? 

If this is the last moment of my life with you, in what world I shall meet you, and what unplumbed oceans of love? 

If really this is the time of aloneness, and I will be away from you like a light in the tenebrific forest,

then I shall burn for you like a bright star in the starlit sky...