I want to play with flowers
Bathed in the first showers,
Wish I could fondle in my arms
Bubbles born to the fresh rains.
Touch the silver fencing
Hung from sloping roofs
They never allow my fingertips,
To obstruct their ways.
Flutter in the clear sky
With newly winged ants,
Catch tiny fishes with my socks
And leave them back into the tank
Splash water along my ways
Showering droplets above my head
Make playhouses from wet sands,
And float paper boats in passing rivulets
I sit drenched in memories
Finding it hard to cleanse them off
They launch in my awning
Unfathomable, not waning or vanishing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a well wisher of pique on loving a sparrow.. And float paper boats in passing rivulets I sit drenched in memories Finding it hard to cleanse them off