And in the shorts
Jogging in the park,
Looking handsome-handsome,
Young-young
Into the T-shirt and jeans,
The golden specs
Over
With a hanging face
Looking young-young and stylish
And handsome
Hiding in age and childhood.
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O, you digger, digging for the foundation stone
Return, return the golden statue,The spade falling overAnd clink the statue striking!You give me, my anandamurti, the anandamurti of Radha and Krishna,Blackly, but golden,Murari with a flute flutingAnd Radha the consort together with,Seated on a lotus!My archaeology, my histriography, you return me, return me,Strike not hard as there liesThe ancient golden statue,Of Murari and his…
The blue boy,
Krisna as a seven-year-old-old child,Krisna as a balaka,Krishna in a miniature paintingAs seen by VallabhacharyaAt Mount GovardhanAs Sri Nathji.Krisna,Child Krisna as Nathji,The upholder of Govardhan,The hamlets and the folksAnd the gopis as well,The blue,The blue boy of BrindavanAs Sri Nath,Nathji
Writing poetry, I fear it, one day I may turn into a poet fossilized
Make a staue of his,They saying it,Of the poet unknown.
Kavita utsav
Aur kavita ke liye.Poetry festivalExclusively for poetsAnd poems.
Printed
And spotted,The beastOf the wild.
I saw her smiling
Playing with dust,Under the sunUnmindful ofWhat she had,What had not,Playing with dustUnder the strong sunThat poor girl,Poor Dalit girlInto the hamlet,Hamlet homeAnd the courtyardAll around the place,The open space adjacent to itThat Dalit girl,Poor Dalit girlHalf-fed,Half-fed and half-clothed,The child,Child of povertySmiling,Smiling sweetly.