(190) Campaka vane haraye phelechi
In magnolia grove, I've let go
My tiny piece of poetry...
'Fore sweet scent I concede defeat.
Not looking inside, outward I've walked;
I paid no heed to Your message.
All pain that was strung at heart's core,
What words had been, that's all got lost.
On Whose fragrance this transformation...
Consciously I could not fathom.
My poem, my short ode,
It's not mine, that I know.
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Even without introspection, You have brought me to my knees.
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