My mistress

In fissure of your lips, mirrored I my world
And in my eyes, appeared the pink sky of love;
An unrested, uncolored was a bereft life, but
Being peopled in her palm I descried the caravan soon.
For sometimes it vanished, for a while, and the enemies
Seemed to become the sentinels of farm of my love.
Lunacy of adoration or a stupidity it to call?
That on my dry face, she viewed her own world.

Once your lips purses O, manhood cuddles to die for;
It is a charisma that I could see here right now,
In the name of hollow desires, withered my young heart
It is seldom you’re that the beauty returned, therefore
Whenever I guess peace, you come to me. Yeah!
Whole world sees you, oh India! as that mistress.