This year, too
Flowers blossomed in the hills.
Bukis bloomed
and rhododendrons too.
Flower-like maidens
went running to the plants
plucked blossoms to put in their hair.
Wet in the drizzle of colors,
bathed in the fragrance of petals,
they ran to the brook
and saw their own faces.
Shy of themselves
they ran away and took shelter
in the hearts of young-men.
In the hills of rocks
suffering there is harder than the rocks.
Like hopes,
if these flowers, too, were not blossoming here
how could people live
in such heights
where living is hard.
Bhisma Upreti
Email: [email protected]