He is quick, thinking in clear images; I am slow, thinking in broken images. He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images; I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images. Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact; Questioning their relevance, I question the fact. When the fact fails him, he questions his senses; [...]
Wicks balance flame, a dark dew falls In the street f the fruit stalls Melone, guava, mandarin, Pyramid-piled like cannon balls, Glow red-hot, gold-hot, from within. Dark children with a coin to spend Enter the lantern’s orbit; find Melon, guava, mandarin—- The moon compacted to a rind, The sun in a pitted skin. They take [...]
Here the poet depicts the love of a mother bird for her young ones who are very small and only a few days old. They are in the nest. The mother sparrow goes out and brings a grain of millet in her beak to feed them. They are ten in number.