The fire of suffering.

The fireplace…

Name of deep pain.

Sometime.

Suffering is not a fragrant flower,
Not the river that flows round the lap of green hills,
Nor an endless fountain,
This is the name of a deep pain.

Suffering is not the dance of the heart at the touch of a lover,
Seeing a flying white buck is not poetic.
Not a warm hug sitting next to the fireplace,
This is the name of a bitter wound.

Trouble comes suddenly in the midst of life
Green Banani started burning in the fire of suffering.
Bleeding continues in the world of sense
A mad desire to disappear into the ground arises then.

Watching the lover go away,
A wave of pain came crashing down on the plain.
In the pain of losing self-esteem, the head bows down,
The snows of decadent life melt and disappear.

Burned to ashes by the fire of greed,
One day the troubles die in secret.
Sorrows fade into the void, sometimes in silence.
In the desire to wake up again on the path shown by himself.

Sadia khan Runa ~