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Poem

Then your falling youth
How pitiful!
In long-term use-
Suspending, feeble breasts-
Obsessed, nostalgic-
Recalling the lustrous sunlight.

There grows- 
The line of oblivion of quarter century
There grows-
In the line of the setting sun.
As if the rays coming from hidden gold under dust
And it scatters into wonder light rays.

The beautiful rainbow remains suspended 
In the stream of light of the blue sky
Smears the melody of a bow on its body.
The lust of a voluptuous woman
Diminishes off in the horizon
At the end of the day
The majesty of a pigeon
Returns to its nest
With exhausted flying wings
At the end of the day.

The drunk hem of the sari
Flies on the roof
The silver rays of light remain playful
Play in the dancing style
Breath in the burning sweat point after fall
Life searches for nirvana in exhalation.

But-
The bright day hides in the darkness of night
Then days go by, just go by
And the sprouted youth horse tramples
The pitiful shadow of old grandfather.

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