doosray pakshion k gaanoN
ki nakal kar gaanay wali ek chiDiya
chup chap baithi thee
apnay swabhaave main nakal maarnay k liyay
lakin kisi ne us ki parvaah na ki
na hi tareef ki us ki anubhuti ki
nafart se vo bhar gayi
oonch chtaan ko ilzaam laganay lagi
aur apni awaaz dabaati hui
pahaDi ki taraf uDi aur peD par ja bathi
chup chap kasmaiaN khaati hui
k ye bhanjar bhumi kitni sundar hai.
***
Crow Song
The mockingbird
sat quiet
which was its way
of doing mountain.
But no one
tossed a crumb
his way
or marveled
in the least
at his perception.
Disgusted,
he laid fault
with the high crags;
and straining
his voice uphill,
he swore
at the barrenness
of perfection,
at his talent
left speechless
in the trees.
-Clint McCown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem