Dark night
I cannot see the river.
I can only
hear it thundering rumble.
A water well explodes
enamored in the fleshy
clutch of fluffy
clouds, making a cave of this gorge.
Only fingers of the fireflies
illuminate its shape, the wild limbs,
as the river fumbles
curled around the hefty thighs of the night
to find a wink of sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely, pure, heartfelt poetry from India's greatest poet.