Winds of Sorrow

Why doesn't the wind that makes trees rustle tell you how much I miss you.
That every passing moment- a moment where I die and fly in this wind of singing sparrows-
the longing only increases, like that timeless night: of sadness, yearning and cold tears.

Can't you hear O my beloved, or has my pain been consumed in the sea of morals that separate us.

why doesn't the wind that disturbs the sand on my pavement below
tell you how much I love you.

why doesn't the wind tell you
when I close my eyes at night, all I see is your face
and when I open them to the first rays of a morning, all I want to see is your face.

why doesn't the wind tell you of this rift
I created in my heart till yours
where did it find a way but?
In our memories those winding roads of barren hills
had left no trace, or so we thought.
It isn't only love that travelled those roads
years ago.


why doesn't the wind tell you.