The snow mounds
have started gliding―
on the rocks like
mute swans.
I was collecting
the landmarks of my failures.
From jade to jade
and wins.
Plucking the fear
to remain alive in the
ruins of wingless dreams.
I cannot catch your
face now, in my words.
The grey hounds of dementia
would not wait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely articulated poem with an intense expression of inner most feelings. Thanks, Verma ji. I was collecting / the landmarks of my failures. I cannot catch your / face now, in my words. The grey hounds of dementia / would not wait.