We are all sitting face to face,
But cannot look into any face clearly.
All are like reflections on a still water sheet,
Forms and shapes moving on a mirror,
Broken coconut kernels,
Incomplete drawings on your cerebral canvas,
Pieces of crescent broken into halves,
You never know to which side and into where they slide.
We keep on seing,
But no picture remains still,
Or breaks into different dreams,
No feeling comes to a stone.
We see only stones left all around.
When no looks confront with yours,
When no part on the scene
Over whelms your lachrymal seas with storms.
When no picture in sight glows in the glitter of your looks,
We find only stones all around.
All characters keep moving
Briskly on the stage,
Their show of funny poses
Exhibit no emotion,
They carry out their dry act of wishing you,
They see that their address
Does not leave any impression on you.
They spray their smiles like ash on all of us.
Without exercising the body,
Without crumpling the silken dhoti,
Without a stain on the dazzling saree,
All their facial forms reflect, crazy Rangoli.
They flight their stuffed doves
of gray looks in to air.
We see only rocks all around.
No real feeling settles here.
In their orchestrated sounds
You hear no music of affection.
All their souls appear to be strolling
in the realm of untruth.
Faces pale all around,
Their vain efforts to smile,
We hear silent hissing of
Shall I swim with these secret eyes,
towards my originic Orion.
When should I review myself?
Sculpt and simplify myself into a quark.
After witnessing so many forms of hunger,
After being blissfully destroyed in the flames of desire,
After consecrating the hungry heart of secret fiery eyes,
In the mound of my soul
Does it not do-
If I become a grain of sand and
Exit this grand creation?
Does it not do-
When my semen is broadcast,
into the nerves of the earthly desire.
Does it not fructify my life? !