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Water Of The Flow-tide
the syllabus of the balcony
continues
the black-blossom just beneath your chick
can’t be extinguished
the waves
that are moving with their own axes
smile to the eyes
to make me more adult
the water of the flow tide
works for the whole day
at the end of the day it carries to home
five grains of the buds of the lotus
to maintain livelihood
the dew-drops
accumulating in the womb of the poetry
also want to change some warmth
riding on the football of 2-30 at night
the vermillion of the full-moon
on your forehead
all on a sudden
takes a sip
in the fishing-net of the tennis-man
poem
by
Murari Sinha
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