The odour persists
tireness numbs
eyelids bow, I feel poor.
The other day
a flower touched me
I touched her too.
The bumble—bee
has a silly history.
He lives in the society;
in the garb of
you and I.
KESHADURAPAL; Odisha; india.13/01/2010 Ph-09938175100
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem