When the diseased mind
Talks to the wind
Torn leaves
Turn into swinging shadows.
The body sways
Along with the
Whispered tunes.
Glistening like gems
Dew drops cling
To the soft grass
And swim
In the morning sunshine.
The howling faces startle the heart.
Birds take off with a start from the giant tree.
As condition worsens
Siva performs
The Ballet of death
Nerves jump
Eyes set ablaze.
Seven tuskers rush into my arms.
I cleave asunder
The drama of light and darkness.
Electric impulses
Bring to a standstill
My bizarre orchestra.
Wonderful poem and wonderful translation! The imagery and rhythm, beautifully captured!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I sincerely thanky you for the translated version..