Wearing a glove,
Cause the other of the pair is lost,
So you are naked,
in one hand.
Write one article,
Pat one child,
Cook one gorgeous dinner.
Keeping the trousers,
But nothing on the chest.
Cause the weather makes you tempered,
Unseen on the legs,
Seen through on the hearts,
Half-seen over the skins.
What do you want to hide?
Then it could be hidden.
Bearing the innocence, half of it.
Suffering from righteousness, half of it.
Trusting the truth, half of it.
We are divided into halves.
Then half-naked would be an exquisite decoration,
Like a half-bloomed dead flower.
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Comments about this poem (Half-naked by Wang Qian )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
((13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(03 April 1964)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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