This is that river,
Who has given me culture.
This is that river,
Who is not able to move further.
See this river in the eyes
Of the moon my dear and
Say something in the words
Of the clouds and the deer.
The river knows what type
Of man I am and hence
Shows me waves and stones,
That are there years together.
Whether I am loving or hating
Is a different matter, my dear.
But I am with the river and
The river is with me
Notwithstanding anything
Contrary to my own future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem