A violent wind-scape overwhelms the outer world,
Pry’s open sleepy thoughts, hurling them
Headfirst into the rainy wakefulness roaming outside!
A window full of drops, spherical balls of night zig zagging
down, each trapping shards of the storming suburbs
In their shuddering, transparent forms,
Skewing and liquidizing the mornings first brave lights,
tentative drivers up before the sun, headlights ablaze,
oily beams bisected only by the flood.
It is a strange thing, this night of rain and wind,
we a have woken unto its whorls
of elemental relentlessness...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem