My street bitch bred three puppies last month.

They sustained the rain, cold and thunder

from the motherly nurture and guard.

But soon she failed to retain them-

some inconsiderate drove over them, some stole.

Yet she strolls around,

wags her tail at the neighbours

whether they prize her with the left over foods or not.

Even in ordeals, her existential potency,

unshaken by her inferior sense,

keeps her depression at bay.

Most human beings, unlike the street dog,

neither lose their kids nor remain in hunger for a long time;

But manipulate the superior sense erroneously,

Thinking of robbing friends or country, rejoicing, mating,

raping, smuggling even in ingracious time.

But in utter ordeals, the depression so overwhelms them

that they become lethal, take their own life.

By Bimal Kishore Shrivastwa

From: Nepal