Now I know where clouds are born.
Now I know where mist is formed.
With the eyes of a child,
The soul of a man,
I saw the sky make love to land,
He kissed her at the mountain of her lips,
Till she went blue and took the color of his muse,
She shivered, she exploded in a green of fulfilled desire,
In Their eternal embrace, in their dance of fire,
Were born clouds, were born mist, and was born
The Nataraj's dance desire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem