The coconuts from the garden
small they have become
gone without water be the reason
rains have deceived in all seasons
the nuts look dry and parched
exceed in numbers though
starved they seem on the exterior
the inside looks great with cheer
butter like slippery substance
lies there almost in most
hold little water sweet
the tender sleeves are tasty
lovely to bite with ease
like to say like Keats
all things small are beautiful
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
reflection of the mild monsoon..... a metaphor in coconut......nice write!