I am tipsy after my own feelings themselves have become wine. I forget myself, world and all. - Suman Pokhrel

If they (children) smash, the flower vase assumes a smile
while turning into pieces.
For a chance to be spilled by their hands,
anything they hold gets spilled itself full of happiness.
For a chance to play with them,
water forgets about its own colourlessness.

Wishing to grab the life with nothingness
wanting to erase the sigh of tiredness
forgetting myself completely from my being
why do I seek embrace of yours
do not ask me, I know not,
I am in oblivion.

I wonder–
didn’t the Creator really do injustice? With a power to defeat everyone without any battle, children are busy at play with the most beautiful moments of their life.
Once they grow conscious of it, those moments will have gone away
never to return to them.