The hills looked blue from far
With the shadows of the clouds
Giving the green a different tinge
The green became green
As we drew closer
The trees towered over us
Not so squat now
Making us less and less
Sure of ourselves
Used to straight lines
Not these hairpin bends
Prone to accidents
Landslides and wildlife forays
The heat wave we were fleeing
Tempered the fears over the climb
We took heart from the cold welcome
That awaited us, the promise of rain too
Happy to think we had come
Half-way to meet the monsoon
Still finding its way from the seas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem