Surely, my friend, insane I'm Such is my plight. I visualize sound. I hear the Visible. And the fragrance I taste.

And ethereal is palpable to me. Those things I touch Whose existence the world denies, Of whose shape the world is unaware. I see a flower in the stone When wavelet-softened pebbles on the water's edge, In the moonlight, While the enchantress of heaven is smiling unto me. Exfoliating, mollifying, Glistening and palpitating, Rise before my eyes like tongueless things insane. Like flowers, A variety of moonbirds, I commune with them as they do with me, In such a language, friend, As is never written, nor ever printed, nor ever spoken, Unintelligible, ineffable all. Their language laps the moonlit Ganges shore, Ripple by ripple, Surely, my friend, insane I'm Such is my plight. Laxmi Prasad Devkota - From his poem, The Insane ('Pagal' originally in Nepali) ;