The little blade of grass
resists the rain drops
shivering, shaking, trembling-
Some slide downward
some dropp dead-wet
some collapse disintegrating
But one droplet
sticks at the topmost point
poised Happily
reflecting all the gray sky-field.
by Sharad Rajimwale, Jodhpur, India
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem