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The whistles of the train

The whistles of the train

In the rains

Puts on a hat of black smoke

At its sight the frogs croak

On the edges of a pond

Where shadows of a banyan tree

Gambol with the shades of a Palmyra tree

And butterflies witness the exciting game

Being on their fragrant wings

The butterflies have drunken deep

In the pollens of dahlia and sunflower

Lotus and water lily

And are dank with sensuousness

A train rushing in the rains

Under the canopy of clouds

Throwing up a cap of smoke

Can open up such phantom worlds

Saturated with smoking and croaking

Fragrant sensuousness

NOTE-
This can of words has been manufactured

On the 5th May 2011

And it will remain fresh cool for 160 days

Provided it is kept in a cold dark cellar of the brain

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