The stage is set with a black curtain
and an audience full to the brim
pin drop silence
seven black clad string players and
a lady in a orange saree with a grand piano
take stage
their heads nod in unison
and their arms and bodies start
a slow rhythmic dance
as
the Music begins to fill the little Hall......
The walls of the room slowly begin to collapse, one by one
the night turns to day
as the sunlight fills the room
the vistas open to a large countryside
early summer morning
in old Germany.......acres of farmland
the smell of wheat fills the room
as the morning dew slowly evaporate
a distant train rumbles with steam but the sound is far away
a girl is dancing in the morning sun
among the waving corns
and her apples fall out one by one from her basket
skirt flying in the wind
a thin sweat forms on her tender skin
goosebumps with anticipation
tears are dry on her smiling cheeks
hallucinating between the dream and reality
and remembers the words of her granny
thinking of a boy in the village
my spirits rise
she no longer carry pain or hatred
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem