To name something I seek also to name
Feelings which well up from some deep
In despite of habit and the numb
Drill of living. What shall I call this
Discriminate joy of standing still
In hails of history, whose residue
Is water and then vapour? Or between
Actions a space, a calm parenthesis
With no continuous congruence
Or purchase to the unwavering I?
Should I rejoice or grieve, that all my life
Is filtered through a sieve too wide of mesh
To catch in words? I have known enough
To recognise a 'raga' or a face
From hidden memories of coherence:
That curve of melody, those stranger eyes foreknown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That curve of melody! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.