Umbrella Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Umbrella
On the black canvas
Carve the thunders
Streaks of neon glow,
The drums the heaven beats
On their way to the earth
Rend the air apart,
The ground in orgasmic anticipation
Vibrates in a rediscovered titillation,
The soil waits holding its breath
In the last climactic lull
Before it’s released from the pain,
Unmindful, I open my umbrella
In the season’s first rain!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/9/2024 2:45:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
