Author Dina Nath Nadim A wind carrying twigs climbed down a hill and walked on the riverbank. The twigs got stuck against a mound of sand and found their place. Since then the people say: 'The twigs are always for the fire'. [Translated by Arvind Gigoo] Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 3 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments