Watching the relics of the Sun Temple
At Konark and rediscovering the self
Is a wonderful experience.
It is, as it were, enjoying the lyric grace
Of fulfillment and alienation
In a lovely book of verse.
Its sensuous stones, lively,
Deftly designed in the divine splendour
Of a chariot, seem to be telling
The fascinating tale of a people
Who passionately longed to see
The wheels of a great culture moving.
Though the magnetic main temple
Has lost its trunk and visage
By malicious tampering of time,
What yet remains is a clear message;
The dancing damsels, the horses and wheels
Immortalizing its poetry of the sublime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem