In the first a daughter and a father converses with
So innocently discussing the mystery of the world,
Taking to life as it is
But in the fragment it gets diverted to yoginis,
Sculptures and figurines on the outer walls
Of the terracotta temples,
The galaxy, the starry skies full of twinkles
And the sculptures, figurines sitting atop
On the sideways so sculpted prominently
Under mist and heat and dust
Telling of the dharma-arth-kama-motif,
The way of life and the world, mysteriously
Weaving the myths of light and darkness,
Life and death so complex and intricate to say it about,
Darker human relations and relationships.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem