Then-
One day all the poems stopped
I will keep my eyes open towards the tree
I ran like a blind sailor towards a city without any pride
I learned that reality floats in the air here every day
Bumblebees and fish play in the belief of water.
Think and feel
Alas, it hung between my lips,
But one day I wanted to be Krishnachaura-
Those days are wounded today!
Today the path is going to the path country,
Incense, in the guise of a lamp
Yet, one day I wanted to be a chariot
Those days are gone today
Unnecessary insanity today,
Complaints, arrogance, weeping songs
Turned me into a strange tree of colorless stone
But-
I wanted to hide the ugly all day,
I drew a city in the folds of green and stone and sand
The city that used to laugh out loud
The city that would stop at you,
That city is captive to you today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem