Huge green trees near my house
They tower over the green shoots
Some young trees, some old bushes
But all together speaking loud
Sometimes though not heard by me.
Most of them have dark black or brown
Trunks like vital organs supporting:
Leaves close with each other, and sleep
In the dusk lit by one large planet, and bright stars.
Or leaves pointed like bamboo or humble grass
Carrying white pearls of water drops.
When I can merge with these trees
Or drown in this g r een sea,
They brood over me,
Like they did years ago in Pune University,
Over the Australian girl's cemetery
Who died of cholera in Inda at fifteen.
They whisper mysteriously above me,
And though Idont follow asyllable
Of what they speak, I know
They are trying to be in communion with me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem