In front of my eyes there are many angels,
but in my eyes, there is only one angel.
That angel is you, and only you, my love.
And my love for you, is still as sweet
as the song of the bird’s after the storm.
Alas! If the dead can come back
to the Earth and flutter in silence around
those they loved, I shall come tonight
and whisper in your ears, “O love, I’d
left my love for you on the petals
of the breeze. Open the window
of your core, and let them stroll in.”
And then, perhaps, you may hold
my love, amid the tears of joy, in the
midst of your eyes. O love! Do not
mourn my death. There is the seed
of my love in your heart. You’ve got to
let it grow. You’ve got to let it blossom
into a beautiful rose. Do not be sad,
I shall descend from the Sky every night
into your arms, and rise from your lap
every morning as the Sun, and caress
the rosette of your cheeks with joy.
And if there be a stellar sensation
in your core, it shall be me, thinking
about you, my love! And if there be
a puff of waft in your hair, it shall be
me, holding you in my arms, my love!
Ah! Rejoice, and let the tears of happiness
in your eyes, tell me that you are still mine.
You are still mine. You are still mine.
I am not afar; I am just closer to the Stars.
I shall pass by like the breeze and heal your lips.


Copyright 2005 Bhuwan Thapaliya.