Flying and flying
looking and looking
searching and searching
whirling and whirling
the butterfly
sat on a flower.
The breeze felt lovely
the sky more azure
the flower
bright and scented
it felt all life there.
Now he broods.
Discerns what is good
What is bad too.
Where did I wrong?
Is there pain after death.
What should I do?
Keshadurapal 19-11-2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Flying and Flying Looking and Looking Searching and Searching Whirling and Whirling I love how you have described the movement of the butterfly before it lands.