I wished, innocently,
when my son was young and sprouting
that he should grow big like a tree
and I must rest under the cool of its shade;
where ever he may be
how ever he may be.

Me, being a man amidst the trees,
I wonder, how I could forget
that the trees won’t move and
that we only have to shelter under.

When my dreams are fulfilled
and my son grew tall and green, afar,
and when the shade spread by him
opened the doors of a golden cage
the days and nights
masqueraded and mocked at me.

May be the old age became another infancy
I am learning to talk the talk of my grand sons.

Only when I reached the other shore
I realized –
what I lost,
that all that is me and mine
not necessarily mean my son alone
and that every bit of
my town and my street,
my land and my ambience
is, but, me and mine.

Here, I tied down my soul,and
sent my body across the seas.
But, that was not all that good!
My blood and flesh could retain,but, little
of my love and affection!

I cut short my trips abruptly;
But, fly again and again
when ever my heart is pulled from the other shore.

Original(Telugu): Kranthi Srinivasa Rao. (from Samaanthara Chaayalu)
Translation: Nagaraju Ramaswamy