The squirrel came today
Separated from the mother
Half dead in the hands of the playing cats
Memory of loss is no more a story
Someone has done the duty
Someone else the counseling
The three lines of the creature
So perfectly drawn
The furry curvy tail
So picturesque
Even in death
So firmly falling
Oh Rama,
Come and take a final look
The creature you painted so kindly
Lying buried underneath
The blade of grass which saved Sita
The abandoned love.
(From the collection, 'Dream of the Butterflies ' by Sreekala Sivasankaran)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem