Looking
Out of the
Window
I see
Houses,
Houses
And more
Houses…
Those distant
Faraway,
Diminishing
Trees…
Are asking me:
Where do we
Take our grouses? !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I loved this poem Aparna. Thanks on behalf of the leaves green, yellow, healthy, diseased, not to forget the ants, spiders, termites, butterflies and the aromas, the soul of the jungle.