From womb to tomb
My journey took more than eight decades
On eleventh day after my death
I resurrected, sat on my tomb slab
And wrote this poem
Gentle, pleasant odorous breeze
Pushed me always
Felt like sliding on
Wonderful, beautiful, colorful
Bed of flowers shrouding the earth
No cyclone, earthquake,
Tsunami or terrorism
Nothing to shorten my life span
But I wept and laughed
In both the containers
Of womb and tomb
Without contaminating
The inner environment
And listener was only myself.
P.M.CHANDRASEKHARAN
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem