Sometimes the day, and
Sometimes the night
I wonder
where they carry this nerves from!
.
As if the land is yeaning,
As if the sky were scrimpy
these ideas well up to the brim!
Even as you drain them out in oodles
they ooze up in springs eternally
these memories!
.
How lucky are the cumulonimbus !
They can dump their melancholy
by raining it out.
But what a tragedy!
The gravity of tears
shall collect, than cease
however much they stream down the lids.
.
Strangely enough,
some aches and agonies
shall never surcease.
Even if we illude
that the pain of the wounds has abated,
the throbbing of the memories
shall remain, oddly, forever green.
.
The lips of the thawing Time
shall hum the tune of an old lyric eternally
… till life lasts.
The melody of memory generated
shall croon within…
within the aural confines Time has excepted.
.
Every event, every occasion
is a perplexing move on Snakes and Ladders!
More than the catapults by the ladder
the snakebites of scrutiny
shall smart more often.
.
Every syllable, every imagining
is an endless saga…
like the fabric on the loom
short of a weft or a warp always.
.
Praveena Kolli
అనువాదలహరి 
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