It was summertime,
The loo was blowing hot
And I was crossing the dry sand bed
Of the rivulet
To move to another hamlet.
It was lonely all around the place,
The solitary landscape
Without men and animals
Grazing the fields and fallows.
And in a haste I crossing the rivulet
Fearing loneliness, bewitching silence
Prevailing around and overtaking
But what to say I could not avert from
Seeing the skulls on the sands.
Lying toothless, looking in a bizarre way,
The skulls, human skulls,
White and bony
Eyeless, toothless
Which but I could not avert
Taking the name of God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great experience, it's memoir and intensity of feelings it aroused have been wonderfully portrayed in this beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing this 5 star poem.