Sabina Sindhu Biography

- Sabina 'Sindhu'
The ink bottle, it was empty.
The Pen, it wanted to swallow ink
The ink and the pen
...

Green are forests
Green was my childhood.
...

Although rose is red... or yellow,
my eyes are with tears
No rose blooms on my cheek
And no dropp can quench my thirst
...

An old woman,
Accommodated nearby,
Her stories I still remember
Gorgeous stories I gormandised
...

Rain stopped at once
bitter songs of wild-plants stopped.

Songs have departed silently
...