Eating Fire, Break The Mirror Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

The mirror burst into laughter when I stood opposite
And stealthily I put a wig to hide my bald shining patch;
Though I'm not senile, but already earthly bank deposit
little by little imperceptibly, don't know who how snatched.

When I walk alone slowly through spring-thoroughfare
Youthful row of trees tossing branches crack vulgar joke;
I hesitate to stand under the enchanting shade and fear
same aged friends cast a side-glance to this senescent folk.

No doubt it appears I'm senescent but not at all really senile
When raining I like be drenched beside gay and sprightly jasmine;
Though I know have to suffer from cold drenching a little while
Yet I'm about to respond the drizzling, grand daughter gives me beans.

At mid-night I stand by the window see moonlit-bathed far-off land,
Colourful playful shadow of the nymphs fabricate beryl-magic
I hoist bamboo-pole with stoker flag and play sensible inner band
Eating fire, break the mirror, with a blow of wish-yielding stick.