Yes
the woods are deep
Robert Frost was lost
on that depth of a thirst.
the miles are beautiful
each on the road
like a thistle or a tulip.
Iam a sea gul.
how this panoramic blue
without any buoy
can give a hope.
the digital woods
will starve oneday
not with bean and berries
not with the sap of the earth..
can we make kababs
and taste a 'barbeque' grilled
flavour of foods,
with these
quantum computing gadgets..
Even our hunger and anger
will be pdf bytes and bits
roaming like cosmic corpses
in warped space.
my love is zoomed and sharp
with HD on its trembling lips
in which the ridges and curves
will never
toast a sipful kiss..
the ages ahead in AI
will doom with out
these mating bunnies..
the greeny grass are like
flames soaring and soaring..
the diamonds of morning dews
have become a myth..alas!
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a poem by Epsi Ruthraa
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem