If possible, be my friend and don't talk to me.
Keeping the palms behind your ear lobes, just
Listen to the music in my words, without losing
Any single drop of it that comes from my soul.

A voiced word is just like a fired shot.
The slug, through the ears, goes into the brain
And kills the music in the word, by waking up
The intellectual monster there in your brain.

No, no, no my pal, we aren't talking the same tongue.
The syntax, grammar and meanings always differ.
Only the letters seem to be the same, but it is
Just the image that all mirrors always reflect.

Oh! you too feel that our languages differ? yes,
We ought to find one with stubborn meanings.
Till then, be my pal and don't talk to me.
I too, will try not to talk to you.

Copyright by: Sankar Sukumaran