Intransient emotions,
transient moments,
intrasigent intricacies,
ineluctable intrusions
into the being craving
for finding its moorings.
Thus are born the
beings who wander
yonder for their place.
Thus are intruders born,
the sidelined beings
who inexorably infiltrate
into territories not
meant for them at all.
Intruders may be outsiders
out to usurp places
not rightfully theirs.
Yet indelible are the marks
they leave behind
in strange territories.
And incredible is their
indifference to inattention.
they are there,
theirs is the world too.
Intruders are iridescent,
infinite is their impact,
irrational is the notion
that they can be kept away.
Intruders will come,
they might leave
but in the end
it is their place too,
the terrains of love.
the very life itself.
Perpetual succour is
theirs too, not just of
those who identify
themselves as the rightful
claimants of righteousness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful and amazing creation.....loved it :)