Vapours hover.
Rinsed in a shower
The air is muslin.
The sky hoards mischief
For other hours.
Sunlight rains
On horses' capers;
Overhead, a shiny crucifix
Darts in and out of sight,
And then a fearsome roar
Raves in sonic pursuit.
I walk in slow iambics,
Not without a sense of surfaces,
Shaping things
Into a bas-relief,
Palpable,
And by a trick of ether
Compress the third dimension
To tactile depth -
The toy plane dinky within reach,
The formal mountain and the trees,
Stark from winter sleep,
Granulated to the touch;
Notional antennae
Stroke the tiles on the roof-tops
Like the scales of a fish,
Graded smoothness down,
Serrulated up.
Across the path I see
A snail's belly-print -
Others have been here before.
- - -
And by a trick of ether Compress the third dimension To tactile depth - The toy plane dinky within reach, The formal mountain and the trees, Stark from winter sleep, Granulated to the touch; These are the lines I liked most. Thanks for sharing these lovely experiences of foreign land with us.
Soaked in the sunshine of spring time my friend. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Across the path I see A snail's belly-print - Others have been here before. Love these concluding lines! Yes, others too have visited this place.... the snail has left its' foot prints'! Seeing the trail left by the snail, the first thing I do is to check my pots of orchid plants! They come to eat away the orchid blooms!
Dear Friend, Poet, Professor, I feel vastly enthused by your comment, and by getting back in touch. Your comment vividly revived my reminiscence of the walk in Bern one morning in early springtime five decades ago. I greatly value your reading of my verse. Pl. tell me of your writings which you would like me to read. With warm regards and thanks. Madhavan