My heart often murmurs and says
Where have gone those sweet days?
When I was a little child,
Like petal of flower, mild.
We knew not, what is love
But, our hearts were filled with the purest love.
The days of childhood happily passed,
We loved one another, never crossed.
We were completely ignorant of hate,
Neither did we know, what was fate.
We had not words that expressed our emotions,
The still lips were the index of our notions.
That plunging in deep and running water,
What might happen next ? Didn't matter.
That hopping, pushing and dragging one another,
And the sweet stories of Grandmother.
Though destiny was far and behind the curtain,
We would reach there, how we were certain!
A true love was embedded in each heart;
We had sworn together, never would we part!
Those blessed days and pleasant activities,
There were neither fear nor responsibilities.
Those injured fingers, and the red flower -
With that very gift, I met her.
And had tucked that flower in the cluster of her hair,
And felt her touch it, with great care.
That chance meeting, and a tread cat-wise;
With the tiny hands, I covered her eyes.
She started at once and uttered, who it is?
My pitch silence and her hypothesis.
Oh! Home of my love was her heart ,
And reflections of my thoughts were in her art.
All those events, now seem like dream,
In youth , childhood is no more than dying scream.
We can't rewind the time, can only peep in past,
Here, we can't turn back to get what is lost!
The agony of fate changes our trend,
And finally catharsis comes to an end.
The tricks of foes proved fruitful,
Their false propaganda made her brutal.
In return for twenty years worth of caresses,
She gave me the gift of loneliness.