Fog is floating over the lakes, birds are flying above the cliffs, moving back to their dwellings, to the town, towards the jungles. The shepherds are taking their herds to their settlers. O, my dejected heart where I would go? O, the sad evening, tell me where I would move to settle?
What I understood as ‘love, it was a ‘relation of no relation”. The relation I had, was the relation of ‘parting’. I am not feeling discarded because I could not have your love. The sadness is, there was no one between us.
Comments
@saba Thanks for "beautiful" comment.
Thanks you very much @Rose Iris for such an illustrative comment. I appreciate it very much. Thanks!
Mishaikh, this pictorial and melancholy description has the stuff for a poem.
I am sure it would be lovely.
There is an unbearable pain in the soul when you know that all and everything but we have their place, where they can go at the end of the day.
The place I'm talking about is not a house, town, village, etc.
The place I'm talking about is someone who loves us, it's where we feel at home.
If the heart is broken, downcast, and lonely, we don't have this home. A heart that is restless and seeking, in its yearning for love.
The dusk makes us melancholy because the evening is usually the time to go home, where another loving heart should be there, waiting for us.