Life was running, running
after a mirage-like desires. I met
him, by chance, resting for a night on
a bank of Time. observed him like a
seer does. pinched to awaken.
I asked why I was cast aside. asked
why he carried along my dreams but chose
to escape me. I asked why he
longed to be a porter of my dreams
and walk the roads not taken.
Still enveloped in a blanket of dreams
he continued to lie still, pretended
as if he was in a deep slumber.
So I poured out my suggestions:
don’t try to tread and walk on Sun-rays
don’t try to carry a storm in the arms
don’t try to smile, while drinking
from a burning chalice
don’t try to sleep on a bed of snow
don’t try to embrace water _ _ _
He got to his feet with a sudden jerk,
collected his blanket
and then darted away in such a great haste
that till this date, I’ve not seen him again.
(Translated from Nepali by Manu Manjil)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem