Shambhu Karki
Pay me ears o gentle folk
Who suffer and cry, even and morn
In hunger and thirst for food and drink
In want of comfort, wither and shrink.
Come on, and raise the curtain once
Over the hills so green and still.
The mountain chains with tops of snow
And apples bows with blossomed bowed,
Over the bunches of grapes so green
That toss and dance in the moving breeze
On those dwellers of water or land,
Or on the birds that fly in the air,
You will discover a world, I bet!
A world,
Swimming in the sea of grief
Drowned in the salty pool of tears
Dry of thirst to death so drear,
Like me
Completely like me.
I am fire and times you know
And water at times too,
Therefore O gentle folk,
You are flowers of the same earthly plot.
Bloom together and together you fall,
I am a mere gardener,
A gardener
A lonely gardener!
