Bee hive of Lemon Garden of Ande Villa-
Its humming fills up the entire brain
Below is the hue and cry of hiding game.
Now in the midnight-
Sleepless I am-
In the gaps of the sleepy city buildings
The past constantly rings illusory bells.
Now all the grabby lanes
Those I cross deep inside me in my genre-
The flute plays; -
Plays the crazy singing flute of the village
Makes melody-
Innocent Glass of Silence breaks into pieces -
Falls into the heart of the night.
Then-
In their declared exile
In the pen of the exiled poet
A lot of pictures of village Krishnapura fall
The song of unseen tears floats
In the waters of river Kaliganga.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem