Steep like swords, cliffs
overhang darkened Yangtze
gorges and rapids;
Boa Qin's boat struggles hard—
reaching beyond the Gates of hell.
the current curls spins
and spills, quiet Don steadily
rushes in adventure;
a leaf carried swiftly
is thrown on its bank..
million tulips
oodles colored blossoms splash
on million gay hearts
gathered in emotive spring;
blessed Keukenhof.
feather grass ripens
on the Steppe; wind plays
rustling, lifting the plumes
driving the opaline
constume in moonlit fray.
golden clouds
drifting over the sea—
thinned out and
merge with the eternal blue;
Souls absorbed in Tao.
Ganga is eating
the earth on the western bank
bite by bite day and night
beyond Chandannagar;
west bank expands, east bank closes in.
