The wild geese have flown
through air
A fable set down in invisible ink
you wave you hand at walls of books.
Clock -pen stand
old love letters
idol of Buddha
Brecht and
Che Guevara
cranky music
from an old record player
I close my books
love looks like a disheveled nest
And
everyday see myself
sitting an empty, picture frame
sink, flail and pull back out
words instead of dust, fall from my papers.
Such deepness such loneliness, seems to flow like waves
words come up to my lips, so, i peek it through my eyes.
Wet leaves
floating on moss-co loured water
The wild geese have flown through air
A fish go deep, into the pond of my mind
And
A fable set down in invisible ink
You wave your hand hand at
walls of books.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Surabhi. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.