Breathing The Dark Air Poem by Murali Ramanath
Breathing The Dark Air
breathing the dark air with only one nostril
running on thin hands with thick bill
flying with stretched legs to the dollar hill
in hurry, the dried curry our stomachs fill
daily endless schemes the static minds drill
brain is drained in the intellectual mill
afraid of world the heart stands still
unable to bear stressed bodies fall ill;
oh! death makes this futile life absolutely nill!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 9:14:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
