to print herself the headache of the magnolia
sometimes spreads up to the legs of the ripe mangos
in the water that creeps up to the horizon
the magic-deer of panchbati is sailing solo
under the neon-sun the groundnuts learn
the vow-tale of the deep lipstick
if in the centre of the mango-pith … standing on the hanging-balcony
there is a flower of guava … then …while walking along her sweet grievances... some day that handmade fan must be traced… to make the clouds that are swept in by storm more literate … the time to dip the painting brush in the colour of whose recommendations is still……..
it happens… from the desire to get printed
the magic-deer… before reaching to any literacy-centre …
some dusts gather on her body…
some part is eaten by the ants…
although there should have been some arrangements
to spray the red-rose regularly
and next … the winter comes
the hands want to be stolen
under the blue scarf
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem