a blind girl was there.
many a good foe
from she scored off her friend.
in hope
she grew her tolerance
and kept it up her sleeve,
to hate him too,
when the ages sound.
in deep thoughts
cross-legged sat she
under the banyan plant.
one twig, two twigs and a lot,
grow in sprouts and spread
and sheds its shade,
as the ages lit the lamps.
now it's high time.
she saw him close-
a throb of trance.
as he groped and groped and walked ahead
haunted his words to her tide of pride
'careful were my eyes to you'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem