Only in West, March heralds the Spring.
Let me sing to this month of September:
Here this month in India, dragonflies crowd
Green leaf-tops of some acacia trees;
Butterflies then are a-plenty this time
Wave-twisting their way, circling each other:
To eat and mate being their vocation:
Of course, that is our awareness at work.
That we derive reckless joy watching them
Is not known to them – that is what I think!
Monsoon magic descends this month too with
Rain-clouds, not reflected down in glistening patches:
Making me swear that breezy September
I love best in Mumbai, my belov’d City.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem i rated it a 10 Can you please read my poem called Birth mom thank you