before the dense shower of rain
i’ve placed by notebook for taking autograph
before the whole-night music-show
before the non-busted shell of tear-gas
but i can’t put it before your uvula
till now
sitting in the dark-balcony
touching the nevus
here i am
creeping in the air
is my silky handkerchief
in its every layer
is the disgorgements of the burnt cigarette
and the radioactive water
all over the body
the bird procreates assassination
getting lost with its wings unfolded
in the common people
without leaving a fingerprint
murari sinha
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem