Walking Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

The shadow of the trees requesting
Please sit down and take rest.
The frolicsome stream requesting
You are thirsty, quench your thirst.

The roaring sand-storm restraining me
So that I confine myself in a tent.
The lightning also trying to frighten,
Never risk is taken by an intelligent.

A rope of hope trying tying me to a nail.
Bed soft as down requesting to nap;
Luxuriant library calling for brown study,
Forget everything, items ready to sap.

Spring days playing violin of south-wind
Fragrant-request of flowers frangrant-call
Reminds, 'why bother? you are only for you,
Ever-existing empire? nay! rise and downfall.'

Path requesting come on the world-wayfarer;
I response, knowing it is crooked and endless;
The other name of halting is colourful death,
Walking is life, walking is ultimate happiness.