O gipsy girl,
What my own here,
Make me the same gipsy
I was,
Here selfishness, greed, rivalry, malice
Barring them
Found I not anything
So leaving it all
Want I to be a wanderer again,
A vagabond,
A sadhu
In contact with Nature,
The cosmos
Living into the caves
Under the trees
By the rivulet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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