Prisoner
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How can I study?
I am twenty.
And in love.
The weather is enchanting.
Life is beautiful, inviting.
And here I am,
Cooped up in my room,
Sitting at a table full of books.
Fresh air blows in from the window
And blows out again.
Teasing, daring me to follow.
My lover is waiting, pleading,
Longing for a meeting.
My heart is light:
It wants to dance
To the music of love.
How can I stop it
From hearing the music?
How can I stop it
From swaying to the tune?
How can I rein in my thoughts
Who want to fly free?
How can I force my mind to study
And stop its flights of fantasy?
My foot hurts when I walk.
But that’s just the pain of being alive
Which is as good as the joy.
For it tells me that I am walking again.
I would like to run, even though it hurts,
On the path of life with friends
And not sit at home
Nursing my foot in hot water.
Outside, roses must be blooming.
The shops decorated for the new year.
People wearing new sweaters
And smiles on their faces:
Feeling the cold wind and bright sun.
I am young. And in love.
And a prisoner in my room.
How can I study?
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Very sweet and nice Unmana.