Under misted august sky
where the fishnet boats dot the Matla River
I stand drunken on the wild mangrove.
This abandoned out of world noon
when the river breeze whispers
you are deathless
my blood paints in my eyes her face.
Only the estuarine heron
wings smelling of sun and fish
is my timeless witness!
In sunderbans when you come face to face with Nature this lovely piece will definitely spring forth..........very well composed......Pradipji
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sweet and lovely write on the Malta river protected by the mangrove banks!