(1084) Balechile more asbe phire
You had told me that You will return;
But You left and forgot Your words.
You had loved just verbally;
So You don't understand my agony.
The beauty of decked shrine has got discarded;
Unloosed have become my braided tresses.
Down has fallen hairbun's garland;
What's remained is just my anxiousness.
I keep listening; I fetch strength from bosom,
Whether Your footsteps I hear or not;
Days I count in hope of Your advent;
My heart is filled with eagerness.
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Though I can only live and hope, I can't help but wonder.
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