A crow and a goat,
See both, they are friends.
See the crow,
It is sitting
On the goat.
The goat is there
On the hill top,
And it is visible.
But what the crow is
Thinking - Invisible.
The goat is partly
White and partly black.
The crow is black-
One can say blindly.
And they are friends,
Matchless.
See, I am going to
Catch both.
I caught the goat,
But where is the crow?
That I can't say you
Just now.
Ask not how?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Admittedly, I have a thing for crows. Goats too, although not so obviously. So this poem had a natural allure for me. And alluring it is. Beautiful simple declarative sentences set up an innocence, a scene of pure image without deceit or misdirection. And that is the misdirection, because there is wonderful depth to what is not depicted. It's a startling revelation of how quickly the mature mind begins making connections below (or above) the surface content of what we perceive. The combined dance of simplicity and complexity here is gorgeous and gorgeously executed. My hat's off.