Trees stand there
like dummies lifeless
as if painted on a dead canvas.
People come out of
their heated ovens only
when the sun throws them
in an illusion of setting.
The body is as if emerged
from a dip in salty sea waters...
The earth sits by a country stove
even when it's time to rest
in the cool shadows of
the moon-tree...
Open the tap, and lo, you've
water from natural hot springs...
Even before it gets dissolved
in the earth, the body attains
a coat of it dotted with
salt particles
as a dress rehearsal...
In his own making to
satisfy his greed, how man has extended
the seasons to his own peril
Oh how the whip cracks at the end, I was waiting for the thunder after a lightening, not knowing when or how it would come
satisfy his greed, how man has extended the seasons to his own peril The perils man brought for himself out of greed are brought out nicely. Thank you for a nice poem after quite some time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Maybe something tied to the pressures of being superior on a human scale. However, I do find myself reading this as more of a life-affirming observation that adds even more essence to existence.