For once I scrape all tender coconut
From out of my skull, the tough shell
To write down every piece of muscle
Beneath my bald head. Inside
Now nothing is left, for I have
Learnt the doing of the work
Of cleaning by bringing it
Out into the open -
Under this North East Indian skyl
I cannot deny that despite quality
Ahd workmanship, I am happy
As a child having done its toilet!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem