Discarded, the mango grove's nectar is getting;
Lost upon the horizon are the winds of spring.
Today, on summer's heat, the cuckoo has forgotten song;
Without a green color, no keynotes in bamboo arbor.
Rainclouds not viewed, the peacock too is vacuous;
A bud unblown dries up, the sunshine beneath.
On the blades of grass has attached a yellow mark,
As if they go on bearing remorse hard to cross.
Concealed had been all of the heart's affliction;
Eyes are made to meet a wasteland heat.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Through hardships I realize what it is I'm missing.
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