The voice which my throat hurled, I don’t know what happened to it.
Whether the sky swallowed it or it changed into a bird and flew away.
But my fancy keeps floating like a boat around the islands of
The azure continents of the skies and, the archipelagos of stars in
Of it. To me that search is enough.
The sky is not an arid desert of vacuum; it is the nest of the winged
Singers called birds. It is the hypnotic city, where the wind
constantly works on
The architecture of clouds.
For this prisoner of pitiless life, that little rag of sky,
Fluttering beyond the iron bars is enough.
That fistful of evening which stares at me from beyond
Those clusters of trees – is enough
That little slice of Blue Ocean, whose eyes keep looking at me,
Standing on tiptoe from behind the pearly sand dunes;
beyond the cashew nut gardens – is enough
That particle of desire which keeps whispering
in some remote corner of the heart is enough —
Turned into Water and Fled Away, a modern Indian classic by Seshendra Sharma, first appeared in print in 1976.
Learn more about Seshendra and his work at http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com.