Mein tainu pher milan gi
I will meet you yet again. How and where? I know not. Perhaps I will become a figment of your imagination and maybe, spreading myself in a mysterious line on your canvas. I will keep gazing at you.
Perhaps I will become a ray of sunshine, to be embraced by your colours.I will paint myself on your canvas. I know not how and where –but I will meet you for sure.
Maybe I will turn into a spring and rub the foaming drops of water on your body, and rest my coolness on your burning chest.I know nothing else but that this life will walk along with me.
When the body perishes, all perishes; but the threads of memory are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles, weave the threads, and I will meet you yet again.
—-Amrita Pritam.
I will meet you yet again. How and where? I know not. Perhaps I will become a figment of your imagination and maybe, spreading myself in a mysterious line on your canvas. I will keep gazing at you.
Perhaps I will become a ray of sunshine, to be embraced by your colours.I will paint myself on your canvas. I know not how and where –but I will meet you for sure.
Maybe I will turn into a spring and rub the foaming drops of water on your body, and rest my coolness on your burning chest.I know nothing else but that this life will walk along with me.
When the body perishes, all perishes; but the threads of memory are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles, weave the threads, and I will meet you yet again.
—-Amrita Pritam.
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