sunlight filters through
the dense trees..
pockets of sunny patches
in the verdant jungle of quadali.
deep down an eerie silence,
broken, by the jungle fowl.
some sweet calls, and some shrill tones
of birds, fill the air.
making their presence felt,
flapping their wings, flitting,
a hustle and bustle mood,
before, the curtain of night drops.
it is pitch dark,
silence makes one squirm.
even the jungle has its own rules,
and own voice
almost ominous to tread ahead..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you seem to be a vivid admirer of nature and it's bounties.. sunlight filters through the dense trees... some sweet calls, some shrill tones of birds, fill the air.. i just more than loved these lines.. regards prashant