A heart devoid of love is dead,
Infuse fresh life in it again
It is the only cure for folk
Who suffer from some chronic pain.
Your sea is full of calm and rest
Is it repose or magic art?
No sharks and storms disturb your sea,
Intact its coast in every part.
You are not intimate with laws
That rule the spheres that spin around
The twinkling stars do not disturb
The calm which in your heart is found.
The dormant spark that buried lay
In my extinguished clay since long
Has set afire your bed of reeds,
Assuming form of morning song.
That man can only see in full
The world of future and the past,
Who has the luck to be endowed With
my glance so pert and fast.

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