My life too looks like the Moringa tree,
That continues to live amidst its foes;
The sun Tho’ good, scorches mercilessly;
The wind and Milliepedes are its main woes.
And every time it puts forth leaves so green;
And boughs that grow rapidly all over;
The wind trims down its size to make it lean;
Big branches break; so does the crown-cover.
The Millipedes attack relentlessly;
Within a few days time, it turns leaf-free
The sun joining the fray, blazes the tree;
Except the rain, behave all ruthlessly.
The tree however, refuses to die!
And grows again most luxuriantly and high.
7-8-2000
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem