In nightshade
you had come, as a
prodigy, from the deep
sea of pain.
Digging the hole,
you made the first move.
Beautiful stop, after―
a long detour to find peace.
You craved, what
you wouldn't get. Something
breaks in my jar.
Rembrandt cries after
the ‘Night Watch'.
I will not go for
self-portrait again.
I want to become free
from the burning canvas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderfully written, sir Satish...10+++++