They just turn into grief
And pour upon you.
And the road to your nest
And to your heart
Is washed away.
They hide everything vile on earth.
Dare not open their hearts
Lest the stain of blood will show.
No one is innocent until proved guilty.
In Lakhimpur, Nellai*
The road in the middle of nowhere
Starts nowhere, ends nowhere.
It is just washed away.
Just washed away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem