A dead dog
Never barks nor bite
A heap of its carcass we fear
My friend whom we played together
Ate together
Went to school together
Had a mishap up from a mango tree
Stepped on a dry weak bough
And fell and bled with bruised face
And broken limbs
In a heap that laid before us
A minced body, grave beckoning
And no longer of any use
He that we saw
We never got afraid
We thought about his ghost
And froze in fear of what only
Our mind saw.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life is the biggest reality show with a medley of scenes and hues. A moment of celebration may turn out to be a big tragedy. Who knows?