The charioteer has gone to sleep
Ovecome by fatigue of wearisome ways
Unaware of where he is
All that's evident
...
When the stony silence
Becomes a shadow
Of internal monologues
And loneliness peeps out
...
Life is an empty abode
Built on the verge of
An invisible road
Leading to perpetual death
...
Look O, traveller
Before dying
Put your dreams
In the care
...
Let me sleep
Centuries old deep
And long sleep
Devoid of any dream.
...
Night hidden behind that hillock
Hasn't peeped out so far
The ocean of darkness
Hasn't become turbulent till now
...
When it rains
Roads, trees, houses, birds
Fences, lawns, porches, terraces
...
Fast flowing road
Is the straits of the town.
A flood of comely faces
...
Hither night falls, but
brings no dreams
sunshine advances, but
kindles no one
...
Adieu, our guest birds, adieu!
Adieu, till the next year!
Next year when you'll bring the scriptures of your flight
We would be waiting for you on the lake shore
...