Bus-Stop
(Translated by J. Bhagyalakshmi)

The bus can stop
Only if it arrived
If at all it comes,
It comes with a swollen stomach
Gasping, dripping saliva and goes away.
The village folk
Who walk from places far-off
Bearing the burden of hardship
Run after if while balancing themselves
Hungry stomachs, broken dreams
Ceaseles walking towards goals afar
Never ending looks of hope…
The sun they carried in the morning
They dash it to the ground in the evening
Like all the pearls
Coming together on a string
Tears from far and wide
Mingle here in a warm puddle

All hardships become one big hardship
Just like all human beings emerging as a single sound…..
The tin roof shed
Not differentiating between rain and sun
Takes a nap in a state beyond grief or joy
The noiseless dusky drizzle of darkness
All forest paths close
The trees smell of blackness
At a distance a flower of light
Gradually approaches
Throws dust and blind the eyes
All the colds scatter away
Another light comes alive
Fists do not seem to have risen
But one can feel the heat of darkness
Perhaps that bus has to stop now.

Song of Friendship
(Translated by Dr. K. Damodar Rao)

Rain is important!
It makes a heap of the soil separated into a million atoms.
What do you find the dry,
desiccated land except emptiness?
Point your smile-arrows at sombre faces.
The sullen atmoshpere turns into milky layers.
The stream-line even with its lat surge sows
the seed for grass-music.
Word does matter!
In the endless darkness of desert silences
oasis and sunrise perform sensuous dance.
When the route that ran so long singly
merges in junction
the oceans of oneness overflow!

Walking is important!
The hardened ice-mounds melt into water
with feet stepping over it.
Sensationlessness is a weak symbol for
death-remains

Convergence does matter!
The sighs entangled in the embrace of the
earth and the sky
provided musical notes
to the song of creation.

In a Distant Country
(Translated by Dr K. Damodar Rao)

In the sky I am the earth.
Over the earth, I am the sky.
A stone in a collection of gems.
Before the green fields
I am a particle of the dust.

Before love
I get converted into jealousy.
In front of enlightened ones
I behave like a crazy one.
I fill up the gaps
inbetween poetic words
I am a rare ocean filled with
tides of contradictions.
Not is in my nature to
heed to what others say.
To preach others
I don’t have anything.

The heart is filled with sensations
I take care so that it does not burst.
I also try to bring history back
I chensh the globe on my table
No windows are there to peep into the self.

In a distant country
in languages, not my own,
world-sized loneliness pinches.
The width dampens the feeling
Yes, Lana cloud get lost in the sky
I am India in Germany.