One of the bonded labourers working in Time's factory resembled me.
 Giving him room in my ponderings when I breathed, my head was gone
 In its place an old round clock was fixed.
 My legs move towards the ‘Ad' "Clocks will be set right here".
Suddenly when I felt my arm it was moving like the long hand 
 touching 7 o' clock.
(Translated by Latha Ramakrishnan)                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem