The tall man
stood
stretched arms
looked down
smiled gently
craning her neck
the little girl
tried
to see the top of the mammoth-dost
knowing she wanted
to sit on his helipad nose
he bent
lifting her as he rose again
a giant, a gentle giant
crinkling his nose
squinting eyes
bellyfull of roars of laughter of the man
tinkle like shrill cries of the girl
and she was atop the helipad nose!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sreekha-ji, this reminded me of the epic movie King Kong. Don't leave your perch on the helipad - the tip of the nose of the giant (or giantess - is there such a word?) called poetry. Well done. Again, you have drawn a beautiful picture with as few strokes as are minimum required. I am reading your other poems. Will return for sure with something to say.