Saturday, October 6, 2012

Summer holidays (ఎండాకాలం సెలవులు)

(Translated by: Swatee Sripada)

Summer holidays

It seems as if an artery
That prints on the mind paper
The scenes caught firmly by retina
Has broken
Along the airstream
Floating as a mere white paper…

The fragrances trapped in the nostrils
Fail to intoxicate the soul
As if an empty jasmine without any tang
Whither down merely…

As if breaking suddenly the life pulse
That accords stimulation to the heart
And the bucket that draws out thoughts
Slithered into the well…

Old poems dried loosing wetness
On the cloths-line
Turning pale
Losing the colors in the sunlight

Now... the poetry has summer holidays

I should go to my village in a red bus
To blasting my blunt thoughts
I should get some ammunition
From my childhood friend.

Published in Andhrajyothi Sunday

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