The Gulmohar Blossoms
Who is the bride
Dressed in a Benaresi silk sari
And in sixteen make-ups
Standing under
The gulmohar tree
Satin brocaded and jewelled
So shy and coy mistress
Under the bunches
Of gulmohar blossoms
And the wind blowing
In late March
Seen standing under
And lost in the sweetest dreams
Of hers?
The Palash Tree
Stands it there
Leaflessly,
The wild palash tree
With the clusters of blossoms,
Reddish-reddish blossoms
Clustered with
And the cuckoos cooing
Sweetly from
The hilly domains.
The wild palash tree lies it
Shorn off
Leaflessly,
But the reddish clusters
Of palash blossoms
Decorating it beautifully
With the hanging clusters
So reddish, orange and red coloured
Taking us to the hilly scapes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem