While trying to write a novel, instead
he ended up with a poem:
fresh fragrance of jasmines
colours of butterflies
madness of the sea
invitation of the sky
And the solitary koel's sweet coo-coo-cooing -
can one hope to write a novel with this?
While trying to write a poem, instead
he ended up with a novel:
younger daughter's marriage
elder son's unemployedness
And the chitter-chatter litany of the same old wife -
can one hope to write poetry with this?
In the spinning gyre of prose and poetry
he completely forgot life:
Kalahandi's death shrieks
skeletons of Nithari
hulla-baloo of parliament
And the soaring prices of dal, salt and rice -
everything he did forget:
While trying to write a novel, he became
himself a novelette.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem