Up along a knoll,
Is an ant struggling for survival.
In her mouth
Is a grain to meet her hunger and coming days.
To her lacerating frame
Is the grain like a mountain.
Yet, to meet her winter
It is all her treasure.
And in wavering steps
She climbs up with her morsel.
And to her silo
She is adding her dreams.
And in the process
She tumbles down with the grain.
The grain bounces off
And is lost from her sight.
Yet she searches for it,
This is her golden possession.
Sifting the surroundings,
She at last grabs her treasure.
Once again she meets her grounds,
She climbs up like a tireless mountaineer.
To her, this grain is the taste of her life,
But for us, is a matter of pica-yune* and no more.
***********************************************************
pica-yune* - trivial or petty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You tell a story very vividly Ravi - - well written and 10 from Fay..