poem

Upon the Twisting BridgeI did not come here to leave —And yet, I must go —Today or tomorrow,Now or a little later.When life’s play...

Premonition on a White CanvasOn a white canvas, my fingers trace a premonition—The clouds of cold have not yet gathered,So within sleep there lies...

The Two-Armed DurgaIn the autumn sky, upon drifting white clouds,Through the swaying rhythm of kaash fields,And on dew-drenched grass touched lightlyBy the red-tipped feet...

The Language of SunlightTime moves —The play begins its rehearsal,And walks steadily toward the national stage.Ahir Bhairav resounds;Applause bursts forth,And in the eyes of...

When the Map Fell AsleepSunlight shattered —Spilling through the glow of a mirage,The map fell asleep,Turning into a scarecrow.The road alone knewThe road’s own...