Sitting in a room
Where only echoes are stored
Thinking that without echoes
All the voices on this earth
Might have been dead at birth.

You can wipe out all the voices with ease
But what will you do with echoes ?
I know now why the bamboos are in the valleys.

Hills without a voice
Gathering the echoes
For a time drowned in silence.

Late comer did not hear the flute playing
She only collected its echoes and left.
The butterfly has gone,
The flutter still remains on the petals
Listen to the stars carefully
Their echoes have golden hues.
Even when all the sounds are wiped out
The earth might live some more time
By spending the echoes frugally.
A truck have been spotted in the city
Carrying echoes
For making them impotent.
It is impossible to predict
What will happen to the voices
Mortally wounded with bullets.
All the dungeons of this world
won't be sufficient
To imprison all their echoes
00
Poem By veerankutty
Translated from Malayalam by Dr.P M Ali