The Wrinkles On Grandpa's Shoulder : U. R. Ananthamurthy

The wrinkles on grandpa's shoulder Are the contoured hills and valleys seen from above. Riding royal on the elephant, Clutching grandpa's tuft- the king. His too rode thus upon his grandpa's shoulder, Like me, A few secrets hidden in the pocket of the shorts Clutching grandpa's tuft- riding The howdah on the elephant My great grandfather's ride upon his grandpa's shoulder Too was similar, in the woods, like mine Clutching grandpa's tuft- riding Elephant back 2. It is the same forest seen every day, The favorite path, Won thanks to the forest's benevolence, Becomes the daily route, the track of truth As the matted tuft of a sage here, As the unruly parting on the crown of flora there, The smooth vermillion path, The spoor of sloughed snake skin, The track of tiger's pug mark, The route of birds' warble. The feet learns by itself all the turn