'mahanadi'
river of my childhood,
also, the flowing, lapping,
water of my youth!
you changed course,
after many years.
perhaps your destiny,
or unseeing eyes of people,
choosing your large heart bed,
to make there homes.
when at one time you were
rushing, gushing,
to meet your destiny.
mahanadi,
i have seen the dry pockets,
of rocky beds, holding,
catchments of water, in summer.
sometimes, i walked wonderstruck,
picking pebbles and,
slated stones, for my, youthful,
memories.
sometimes, walking down your banks,
in summer,
those immemorable, sunsets,
of breathless colours,
leaves a deep longing,
of desire, foryour cool touch.
sometimes your furiousity,
when you swell and grow,
breaks all banks of caution
driving man and beast,
trees and houses,
sweeping away, everything,
leaving me awe struck,
at your strength,
and will to destroy.
yet i would say, nature, gives lovingly
and she takes away ruthlessly!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I had seen the Mahanadi while I was in Cuttack.......But this poem offered a new enchanting experience, lucid to the core, about the various dimensions of the silent-looking-river. Hats off 2 u ma'am...