The sun has lost its glow
Trees stand like mute witnesses
Since years usurping their
Own shadows; must you come
Draped in a film of nubile
Inhibition; sound of feet
Tapping concrete may get
Lost in thickness of wet clay;
You should not wear a nose ring,
Parting in hair should run
A little to the left of head;
Edge of the sari should rest
On the right shoulder flat;
Pigeons should not be shooed
Away from roof tops in a hurry;
The fortune teller is worried
As Virgo is not going to meet
Scorpion in the terrace of love;
The rose is tilting to the north
Due to high southern wind.
You must flow with time to
Remain daughter of the night
Before you get burnt in the pyre.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem