The Village Inside / Cutting My Dreams

The Village Inside There's a village just like this one Inside my heart. Imagination Just like its lanes Dreams Just like its terraced fields Without fear Just like its homes, Full of hope Just like its cattle sheds. There's a village just like this one Inside my heart. A friend Just like solitude. God Just like the sky, Mother Just like a tree. There's a village just like this Inside my heart. Sometimes I sing And the villager listens. Sometimes the villager sings And I listen. And you, stone water-tap of the village, You are singing. Or you whose eyes swim in tears, A spring, a well. Like this village You too I loved once in my life. 6:21 AM 21 June 2000 Putli Sadak Click here for Nepalese Language Version

Cutting My Dreams I'm cutting My dream, the days of my own life. The water of enthusiasm does not flow No joys grow, no aspirations spring. It's a drought. This season of life is dry Here in this desolation Of a village. Rainbows of song Do not appear here. There's none Of the rain of youth. The fertile field has turned barren. It's breast is parched and cracked. With thirst, with anguish, With despair. I'm cutting My living, my being With the sickle Of my own helplessness. When will that season come? Where will my life bloom forth? 1:01 PM 6 May 2000 Putli Sadak Click here for Nepalese Language Version