Fifteenth June, the fatal day, besets me tightly,
Day and night, off bed and on bed, through out,
Like the hanging date for the man, sentenced to death,
And puts me in anguish, in her leaving my ambit.
I cease to exit from the day of the order for her departure
As does the man from the day of his death sentence.
At times mercy is granted. The man’s back to life.
Should she show her grace, I, too, can be back to life.
30.05.99, Palakkad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem