I shall fill the ditch, which is my heart, with the clay of words,

so that my lines will clutch at the ankles of the Beloved walking all over it after the rains,

so that she will sink into the clay right to her wings, and thus moved from air to earth, she will stay put

send down roots, and become a gulmohar growing out of me.

I think that this is the loveliest, most delicate poem I've read of yours thus far.

Beautiful.