I am the passing cloud,
On your territorial ground,
You have chased me out,
But I love you day and night.
My love for you never depletes,
Seeing you in the ‘developing’ process,
Though lame walk for the world diesis,
You are too beautiful to my restored eyes.
Cultural elements not the cowards,
To over speed and get summons in road block,
Cameral eyes are too sharp and precious,
My love, you still crawl as the child soiled.
How many nights I thought of you as my mother,
How many nights I fancy you as a demanding victor,
How many nights I worried for your pitiful status,
Not realized that I am the reason for all your aches.
Traveling from north to south,
Holy Mountains and rivers getting naked,
Democrats can’t be socialists in business,
You come out holding the bowls of alms to receive.
wonderful and wonderful write really, heart touching, thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To my love, India...