One of the bonded labourers working in Time's factory resembled me.
Giving him room in my ponderings when I breathed, my head was gone
In its place an old round clock was fixed.
My legs move towards the ‘Ad' "Clocks will be set right here".
Suddenly when I felt my arm it was moving like the long hand
touching 7 o' clock.
(Translated by Latha Ramakrishnan)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem