A little Cormorant and a duck

In a village pond.

Morning mind of the little cormorant

Flexible with love

Reaching likelihood its own, floating on, is

Flying around the duck swimming

On water peacefully,

That seems focusing the danger

Other one not resembling to its own,

Chaos in water

Morning has a twist,

That the duck does not desire,

And it hurriedly tries to thwart

Other one’s attempt to pick it up,

And finding another one

Not likelihood of its own,

The little cormorant just flies over

The pond; and the duck hurries to swim

Across the pond to reach the bank.


The duck is beautiful. And naked dream

It dreamt first in early morning and it gets

Puzzled with not having messenger of love,

While the little cormorant has met one

Corner of mystifying appearance,

That involves it to fly over the lovely pond,

Morning speaks out without togetherness.


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