Nest

And thus it happens,
Words leave the poet at midnight
Darkness is all that's left behind.

There's an insomniac bird near-by
Who knows for whom she keeps singing;
How far does her song take her longing?

When the world around her sleeps
She calls out to her beloved, all alone
With a hope...
Something would stir beneath a tombstone.

Or may be he has just flown near by
As she sings, he might turn up by her side
And whisper : Neer chhoto, khhoti nei.