Another Mistake Poem by Satish Verma
Another Mistake
Training your voice, you
had come around to open―
the door of the miasma.
The departure stretched
very long. Strange blinkers
were holding the light.
A cunning God would
not let you die―
in the trenches of syllables.
The moon would withdraw
from the humming night―
for a face-lifting.
One blind sun, hurts
the path, where I had
laid the marigolds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 12:36:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
