A yellow leaf is falling I thought
Till from near the ground
It flew back as a butterfly.
Across the Mithi river flowing to Arabian Sea,
It looked on the mangrove trunk
Like a piece of mirror reflecting the Sun.
On return, I placed it as white crane
Then turned from skywalk westwards
To see the suburban train, moving out
Like an earthworm with a purple strip
In the lower half of the body:
Living things and mechanical
Get interchanged and life's riches
Are now comprised of both?
How can it be same? One feels, and other does not!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem