These breezes of the city of joy
Tells me to listen to the voices of the distant golden fields
While it blows towards the beautiful Ganga,
And the birds are flapping their wings.
They're flying towards the hills of Nilgiris,
Dropping a silvery feather
On weathered leaves for reaching the hands of his queen,
On rainy days hoping for woods to breath
In fresh air with smiling flowers.
Showering his care in lights of pearls by running towards the mill,
Pearls fell on woods and stayed there to see you still.
Shall I save it, or shall I keep it safe, as it was in those days of spring?
The starfish was breathing and calling his friends
I saw him at last, in pages where I read
Of oceans and its tiny species living in a marine universe,
Where hearts wished to see the hues of butterflies
Sitting on petals of Lotus.
And it was when I realised:
These wishes are painted as welcomes of new years,
It paints our lives worthwhile, even in airs of every December
Do not think the year is about to end,
Here, the last twelve days are also celebrated as Christmas.
The night sky with sparkling stars
Could live if the ranges of mirages
Turned into colourful fates for the evening loving boats,
Slowly travelling under the bridge,
And making me think how the reflection of blue sky adores
The bouquets of rainbows,
Where beholding eyes seeking desires of lighting mirrors ,
And brushes of old paintings read my poems and utters, "Oh! Your words are so dear! "
The sounding of the betel has a story too.
What should I tell him, the story that I was living through?
Hardly speaking in words of flowers infront of loving hues,
Which crossed paths while it walked
The story that made staircase towards the star gazing universe.
Hoping for me to reach the silk route
Where it waited for years.
Promises and vows I took,
Hopes that came and made her eyes look
I knew the truth of dams, and flowing rivers wanted to be understood.
It had you, it was about you
But the depths of wells couldn't reach the Cupid's wings rising towards you.
I felt their heart trembled
Because they saw your eyes with tears.
Why was it snows? Why was it nights?
Where my heart was awaken till stars of midnights
And it sang, "your eyes didn't lie".
The silver colour of the vase
Drew your face, but when I asked him why was it so!
Why did it turned his face?
The trees rising above the clouds
Stopped when it saw you near his blossoming lawns;
These winds are passing just like daydreaming days,
And playing all over again by writing names,
As if it met his swarm
For the very first day in his lawn,
Without wars and defeats
Winning the whole world and calling you as his.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem