When I looked at the sky
It was minimised
And when I caught it in mind
It was totally deleted
The colour I used and the words
To make a reality out of a reality
Death intervenes
And a new life shows its face,
How small and impermanent
Are my eyes like water bubbles
That destroye all it reflections
within a moment?
Can a palm contain a sea?
But that effort is the beauty
Of a poetry written now & then lost
Like the a dead shell on its shore
Paint as many as you can
But in possession
There is nothing called perfection
Be it and sea that
You are the right reflection..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem