Poets

Contaminating, decontaminated contamination Polluting, control of ceaseless pollution Spontaneously, not identical the sail of stream on the sand storm Ceaselessly I flow from my motherly womb of Gangotri,

Cold winter day, nippy wind chilled my bones; I glimpsed at the Sun and its faint rays, that was toiling hard to come through the shattered Clouds,

When I have time to free myself From the hustle and bustle of my rather beautiful monotonous life, I half-willingly lay down on my couch-