Afar the boat, a twig of Ikebana
Entreats a sense of form.
Supine upon the lake-low 'shikara'
I dissolve all form,
And glide along a haze of looming hills,
A cumulus of trees,
Cloud shadows, ripples whipped, a setting sun
Splayed through poplars.
Could I dissolve myself, form-clasping animal,
How would these forms and shapes remain
Discrete, insoluble, impervious to resolution
From the couched 'shikara'?
(Shikara is a low wooden boat, typical of Kashmir lakes) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem