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The Poetry Page

Manohar Khushalani





She comes like a whisper riding on the wind

Quiet and nervous as a butterfly amongst the bees

She looks hither and tither ever so softly

as a feather twisting in the breeze


MK, New Delhi,  Spring, 1971



* Lei* (Italian Translation  of 'She')


Lei viene come un sussurro

correndo nel vento

silenzioso e nervoso

come una farfalla tra le api

guarda di qua e di là

come una torsione di piuma al vento


The first whiff of Matured Wine 


Thou art like the fruit of a heavenly tree

Sweet as nectar

Matured like old, but distilled, wine


You fill my being with such freshness

That I think of thee whenever I get…

The first gust of morning breeze

The first ray of morning light

The first whiff of a bud about to bloom

The first tumble of autumn leaves

The first rustle of swinging trees

The first flutter of a bird’s wings

The first shuffle of a baby’s feet

Thou always rest …

ever so lightly on my thoughts …

Like a fluffy feather wobbling in the wind

Oh Lord …

Thou may not have been the first impression in my life

but, thou art the last word all right


MK, New Delhi, 1st September 2001

Border by the Inspiration Gallery


Editor: Manohar Khushalani

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