The pearl on your lobe.
Its shell, who minds?
The rose on your lock.
Its stock, who minds?
The silk on your bosom.
Its folks, who minds?
The beauty on your body.
Your parents, who cares?
Parents should know this.
Then they know their limits.
21.03.2000, Palakkad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem