BRING ME BACK THE CHILDHOOD
Took away from me this opulence, fame
And even this young stage as well
But bring me back those childhood memories, the “paper boat”
And the monsoon rain as a “bell”
The old memories of my vicinity
The old woman known as grand-mother
In her talks, a group of fairies
In her expressions, the worldly dairies
If one tries to forget; can’t forget
The short night and the long story set
On a hot day, leaving the homes aside
Catching sparrows, nightingales and butterflies
Those gifts of brass-angles
Those scars of broken bangles
An innocent wish of our own idea
Everything in the notions - our own area
Neither worldly concern nor relations and strife
The beautiful was childhood life!
The poem is a translation of one of the poems of Sudarshan Faakir
This post first appeared on The Kashmir Pulse