Carrying the emptiness of the city filled with the
banalities of the world
as I enter my home,
many homes seem to be waiting for me.
The tune of creation I wish to learn following the birds
The view and colors I wish to see in the faces and in the mirror
The music of the heart I search in the crowd
The touch of love each layer of my heart looks for
And the fragrance of life that carries the proof of being,
Are all looking my way.
Having been ripped open and drained by the crowd
When I enter my home,
Many homes seem to be waiting for me
To give a shape to this life
Which is about to perish.
(Translated from Nepali by Mukul Dahal and published in 'issue 6' of 'Snow Jewel' a literary publication of 'Grey Sparrow Press, St. Paul, MN 55121'
Topic(s) of this poem: home, love
Form: Free Verse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.