Illusion Of Modernity
Poem By Harekrishna Meher
Is the modern world of armament
like a flower of firmament
or like a hare’s horn
or like a mirage or like an unborn?
The core of the heart all the time
is haunted by the catastrophe of humanity.
Everywhere reigns the epicureanism sublime
in practical reality.
Is it peace in the age of atom?
Is it the truth of life,
while man is swayed away at random
by the onslaughts of mundane strife?
Nonplussed as if by the state of collision
between truth and illusion,
man like Trishanku in the middle
encounters today’s countless riddle.
In the world ephemeral,
none can fasten the soul immortal.
The abstract panacea of today
forms the philanthropic introspection
that can pave the way
for concrete and eternal perfection.