Manohar Khushalani Poetry Page



She comes like a whisper riding on the wind

Quiet and nervous as a butterfly amongst the bees

She looks hither and tither ever so softly

as a feather twisting in the breeze

-MK, New Delhi, Spring, 1971


* Lei* (Italian Translation of ‘She’)

Lei viene come un sussurro

correndo nel vento

silenzioso e nervoso

come una farfalla tra le api

guarda di qua e di là

come una torsione di piuma al vento


The first whiff of Matured Wine

Thou art like the fruit of a heavenly tree

Sweet as nectar

Matured like old, but distilled, wine


You fill my being with such freshness

That I think of thee whenever I get…

The first gust of morning breeze

The first ray of morning light

The first whiff of a bud about to bloom

The first tumble of autumn leaves

The first rustle of swinging trees

The first flutter of a bird’s wings

The first shuffle of a baby’s feet

Thou always rest …

ever so lightly on my thoughts …

Like a fluffy feather wobbling in the wind

Oh Lord …

Thou may not have been the first impression in my life

but, thou art the last word all right

-MK, New Delhi, 1st September 2001