The rain was knocking
at the door. I was waiting for your
occult arrival for beheading of the roses.
It was a gradual descent
without fall. I heard the silence of
fusion of opposites. Ultimately we melted.
I love someone who can invoke
Agni and water for a lied one on the pyre
for the sale of a god who will not come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem