Bharati Diggikar Poems

Bedecking with events

Whose shadow trails again in the mind-yard
The hopes planted by me rustle with a start
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Shakuntala

Shakuntala sits by a lake.
Her slight fingers unable to restrain
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Job hunting

The interviews are on |She is unadorned
Whirling fans creak.
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This Day


This day, like a white crisp sheet of paper
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The Park

The park,
Looks so different after dark.
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Advertisement

For Sale:
This nomad house,
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Even now

There were staircases and bookcases
Such things normally do not mix,
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In the times of Corona

The night sings and dances.
Before the final nap
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Song of a maid yearning for Krishna - ‘'Virani'' by Saint Dnyaneshwar -13th century

-my attempt to translate lyrically.
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All things incomplete..

The mail that was never written
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