Yesterday, I was collecting words.One was up there, sitting in the bo tree,Another was in the banyan.One was wandering in my street,Another was lying in the earthen jar.A green word lay in the fields,A black one was eating flesh.A blue word was flyingWith a grain of the sun in its beak.Every single thing in this world looks like a word to me.The words of eyes,The words of hands.But I do not understand words I hear from a mouth.I can only read words.I can only read words.
-Shiv Kumar Batalvi
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