Author Sayeed Abubakar Round the year there was the month of flowers. Now only the flowers made of paper bloom there.. Once her face was seen among the flowers. There my heart cries now having lost her for ever. [Translated from Bengali by the poet] Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments