The screech of door
Rush of men and women
Languorous over gin and tonic
Stepping down the stairs
Unannoyed at sharpened blade
Of turmoils off yester and morrows.
Dispassionate I sun my numb heart.
Then I saw you looking at me
In the murmur of monsoon rain
With eyes sapphire crystal
Shivering like a red robin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem