It wafts through my heart,
It is enough if I sleep on your lap,
And as I sleep peacefully, my desires,
For so many generations will be quenched,
What I love and what I breathe,
Is your approval,
I am suffering, I am suffering,
I am happy in your memory,
When it rains so hard, we will get soaked in it,
And when we get sick from it,
We will sleep together in the covers,
Telling sweet lies, you will conquer me,
And even though I know they're lies,
That is all my heart expects from you,
Everyday, I want you in the house,
Never leaving me to step outside,
And, in play, sometimes,
I want to be draped in your clothes,
Quenched, quenched,
Everyday after you've bathed,
When you find me and wipe your hair,
With the end of my sari, that is poetry,
When you sneak up like a burglar,
And suddenly come up behind me,
And embrace me, that is poetry,
If anyone asks me the time,
I don't want to be able to tell them,
For the span of love,
The time of clocks do not apply,
