I will not play
for you,
in burning shadows.
Bribing the body
to sequester the soul
via ripping steel-
of a blade of grass.
He stopped at the door
for a short while -
to sharpen the proboscis
for blood and dogma
of a fake country.
Cannot pardon me.
I will present to you
my earth, as cow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Satish, I don't have the right bent of mind to dive into your creation, therefore I lie bereft of its smothering kiss. But I am touched, pushed, shoved, thrown, tossed and bitten by its raw power. I enjoyed reading it.