By Haribhakta Katuwal
Followed by the curiosity of self-quest,my heart, tortured by the chilly dooms of loss,can think of no poems anymore.It is perhaps for...
By Bal Krishna Sama
A sadhu, with a big basket,set towards the wood to collect poetry.Hills and streams, slopes and plains he coursed,falls and fountains,...
By Sandip Gyawali
The telephone rings. Hurriedly, Madhav picks his cell phone, but the ringing doesn’t stop. Scratching his head, he puts it down and...
By Bikram Pawan Pariyar
Mother! Consider the carrionsleeping inside this red boxcould possibly, in the depth of its dreambe drawing the nation's map!Think, the corpse...
By Hemant Biwas
Jadau, Gosain!Didn’t you recognize me?I am Hali, your plowman,and you, my ancestral glory.
I cannot tell for surewhether your fingers—soft and gayrunning on...