Why should this man who isn’t mine
divert my thoughts to him alone
just with his smile of sunshine
and makes in me desires groan?
Am I so mad, am I so blind?
Why words are gushing in my mind?
They sparkle like pure springs
and lift me up as if by wings?
Oh, why this waste of feelings’ torrents
and sleepless nights - for a man?
Who – God or devil – now warrants
this test for me? What is the plan?
Why should I wrench myself in guessing,
if this could be a curse, a blessing,
or something else, or something else
beyond familiar earthly realms,
beyond the visible?
6 November 2011
Waste
© Copyright: Альбина Кумирова, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119050704184
Свидетельство о публикации №119050704184
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