Dotage
She walks in slow steps
On the bank of white river
That flows with rhythmic music,
Mild pace and tremulous quiver.
The sun’s glittering eye
Blinks in never-ending line
She walks under the shade
Where sun doesn’t shine.
A few retreating waves
Slide beneath her muddy shoes
She hears on the embankment
The aching cows shrill moos.
Suddenly a violent storm
Piles up behind her
Lightning and thunder
Roar in the sky with anger.
Wind passes growling
And touching her soft ear
Her blind face turns pale
Out of unknown fear.
Out of fear, she slowly enters
Into my small mossy cottage
I embrace her like a blind
Out of sheer dotage.
Shakil Ahmed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem