A statue of Radha and Krishna
found from
the ruins
of the old temples,
dilapidated and fallen,
lying in debris and ruins,
the mounds of earth,
made from small-small brickwork
and cemented from
limestone powder clay
and from the same debris,
of the foundation stone,
a statue of Radha and Krishna
emerging
cast in gold,
but blackly
which the eyes cannot behold
and take to in belief,
it is my statue,
my statue only.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem