you think you're hiding, behind th leaves,
with trembling legs, just out of my sight,
as the moon hides behind the wandering,
shroud, but why do you make this noise?
My ears can hear whatever you want to say,
not through the waves, which may disturb,
these worldling slaves, who are all timid,
consumed lots of fear, scared to get the fruits,
sitting on the chair, always touching some buttons,
exciting is the rule; excited for the dreams,
diamonds are under the blades of the experts,
Why is tasting anything no more tastier?
With the beating hearts, many become waste,
pleasure is as the rain, has to stop the march fast,
there arrives the grand madam with the fake face,
all retrieve to the cases to where they belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this poem is dedicated to Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar, as he has touched this subject in an explicit and interesting style, Thank you Sir..