Sitting beside reluctant fan
That rotates at its will
I indulge in a shadow boxing
With the insider
Who indulges in
The routine game of hiding
Never allowing me a chance to seek!
I pant
I puff
I sweat
The eluding self, forever
At its teasing game
Reduces me to a child
Left alone in a procession
Of drums and wails
Fearfully blocking the tender ears
And making the brain walls numb!
I pant I puff I sweat then i am alive..........all other too.You too.Life thus.Well done..Inspiring poetry through perspiration.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you Mr. Estable. 'Self' here refers to the 'insider.' We all indulge in this fight with the 'insider, ' don't we? It's a sapping business and most times goes unrewarded...'shadow boxing' because this 'self' is forever eluding, isn't it? it's appears and disappears, it's known yet remains unknown...a friend and foe too...till such time we 'know' this fight goes on...