Like a snake girl,
the black tresses trailing
behind the heels.
The wavering moon was,
gliding in blue sky,
for a rendezvous.
The beds had
become obsolete. Time to
use oneiric rocks.
Faith was no
more relevant. Now
you hear the dreams.
'Like a snake girl, the black tresses trailing behind the heels.' a rare beauty, time kept decades long tresses
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wrote the poem 'Beauty Strides Chance Path Crosses' inspired by the poem' Improvising' by the poet Satish Verma and dedicated to the poet Satish Verma.