Give me back
My bicycle-
The one I had
For the first time
In my childhood.
It was in a moonlit night
When the most precious
Of my possessions
I brought from the market.
All throughout the route
Tried to ride in phases
Wherever I could.
The whole night-
I was half awoke
Getting up in between
Time and again.
That it was right there
Chained to the pillar.
Morning came earlier
Than the usual time
The next day
And I was on the serpentine road
Of my village.
I could move faster
Up and down
Effortlessly
Without touching the soil,
Beat anyone who're on foot.
In a while I'd made rounds
Of the world that was mine.
Not that I didn't know-
My bicycle had no life.
Yet I took its care
Like one does
For one's child.
Decades have passed since-
I search for my bicycle
Or any other thing in life
That gave so much
Excitements and joy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem