With the mobile phone set
And the wires plugged into
The ears,
The music director is passing,
Is passing
On a new-brand stylish motor bike,
Driving fast
And hearing music
With rapt attention
And going
Speeding dangerously
And going.
On seeing him passing,
I pause a bit
And have a look
At the craze of the age
And times
With the picture of the music director
Before me,
A modern fashionable boy
Handsome, young and stylish
Going on a motorcycle
With the wires of the phone
Plugged into
And he passing, going
In his craze
Risking the odds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem