That still quality
Of one whose loveliness
Is a flame
Or a cold mountain,
Must not be assaulted;
Only touched
To make sure it is there,
Consuming both
Itself and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
can be easily imagined, considering the circumstance in which this poem was written..most of the time the still quality of human might have saved them from heart break at home and work...nice to read your muse one after another, Ananta Madhavan..