This jungle with your timid tread grows my thorny memory.
If the dread of me defeats you, then move beyond my boundaries.
One moment your flower hand was laid upon my shoulder.
This moment it's me alone and a mangling bush of spines.
I can't forget the evening dark when you and I separated.
Lingering on the silent brink, your kajal* made the talk.
I remain engrossed in the fancies of a different world.
How can we move together, since you act on your reflections…
Don't stand to stare my face. Throw a glance at the bleak night.
I am your fellow-voyager old; move if you wish to come.