Winter
K
Kamala Das
0
Altın Yaprak
It smelt of new rains and of tender
Shoots of plants- and its warmth was the warmth
Of earth groping for roots… even my
Soul, I thought, must send its roots somewhere
And, I loved his body without shame,
On winter evenings as cold winds
Chuckled against the white window-panes.
[From Summer in Calcutta]
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş