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Translation of the given poem:
State / Condition/ Hands Spilt on Table
Neither rises nor sets the sun
Pale face
Hands spilt on table
My ancestors buried beneath ample of apples
Shuttle moving in space
Splitting planets and constellation, it’s me
A sudden explosion of mine causes a blast of innumerable minute creatures.
Sun covered by its shadow makes a night
Breaking down the layers of the earth
One after another…and many more…
Piercing abyss of the earth
And over there again seen endless sky that makes a day.
Sitting around my marbled square table
Hands spilt on table.
From far away stony land
An apple moving towards me
Has stopped nearby my foot.
(TRANSLATED BY: NIKHIL JOSHI)
