దురదృష్టవశాత్తూఈ కవి గురించి ఏ సమాచారమూ నాకు దొరక లేదు. ఎవరైనా ఇవ్వగలిగితే కృతజ్ఞుణ్ణి.
.
I come singing the keen sweet smell of grass Cut after rain, And the cool ripple of drops that pass Over the grain, And the drenched light drifting across the plain.
I come chanting the mad bloom of the fall. And the swallows Rallying in clans to the rapid call From the hollows, And the wet west wind swooping down on the swallows.
I come shrilling the sharp white of December, The night like quick steel Swung by a gust in its plunge through the pallid ember Of dusk, and the heel Of the fierce green dark grinding the stars like steel. .
(from: The New Republic)
Jacob Auslander
American
(I deeply regret I could not collect any biographic information about the poet. I will be obliged if any reader could provide me information or any link to his bio.)
Poem Courtesy: William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920.
అనువాదలహరి 