कविता विश्लेषण

It is not worth being a mirror amidst all this turmoil For whenever someone shines, you change colors

Up to here, the garden is filled with your wounds What can I explain about the crown of your head?

Here, I am still unaware, door to door Here, broken longings are also youthful

Now, we also openly enjoy these maidens For we live like this, being your admirers

I am tired, sitting on the paths of my heart's desire This is the time of beauty, this is the moment of pride

Having passed through every color, O Bidal Where does the flying color go, where is the story?