In a little winter of dawn
The scielent world irritates me
Breaking your smell to air
I am floating spreading chadar a little high
The swet smell and roaring pain
May your pleasure, is till my dream
bed is not simpley near like wishes
It should cross age money and biscuits
Passion of the colour and fashion for love
And the slimy layer
watery flow of palm and lap
counts one breath one pulse then arrest the life
Colour of the sky untrue
how water is clear then?
Blue bed arresting my cold blood
does the shadow covers the sun
The beauty of the lips and emerging breast
creates deep vaccum in my heart
Little blood do not run to pump out
Heart struggling to save out going life as a ghost
If a green leaf turn to swipe my lip
then I worship the path pouring valley of honey
Moon need to hide behind the dark cloud
All in a thin cover which nature certainly knows
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem