through the paddy fields,
on a rainy day;
walking among the poodles:
across the moor, she blows away.
reddened face, through exertion,
she looked like something;
with hands on her hips,
gazes the sky, holding the drowning sun.
an occasional breeze, had flown her tresses,
across the face, enveloped in perspiration;
as she sways, hither and thither: unstable,
trying again and again to cover more ground.
her dingy stockings, gave an impression,
she was in a hurry,
to meet somebody, who laid;
inside the ground, buried: deep and dead.
a promise was to be kept,
as divine as her pure love,
an unkempt, unfulfilled blessing,
to be happy in sorrow's abode.
such a beautiful poem with so much pain and suffering on her staggering steps...thank you for writing it with so much emotional appeal...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
...to be happy in sorrow's abode. Beautiful line indeed. Thanks for sharing and do remain blessed.