Poem Hunter
(8 December 1925 - 2 March 1972 / Ambala / British India)


Ornament to my thought… Unraveling to my heart…
I have lost that pain to which my soul aspires.

Day to day, I face the same grief and the same hope.
I wish to disengage from this wasteful sorrow.

How can I hold my life in a single vessel?
I feel the urge to fly in other skies than you.

This stupefying dream of day and night should cease.
I yearn to see some new face in the crowd.

A single wish consumes my madness like a fire:
I shall have a home not confined by doors and walls.

Except Heart, there is no such house in the whole world
Where the doors are left open and theft does not threaten.

Every speck of wasteland carries an example.
Who is there to show? There is none willing to see.

Everything speaks behind these cloaks of silence.
Alas, there is no audience. Ears here are struck.

When free, listen to the sound of the roses' glee.
This is not speech that has been uttered.

For a long past hour, someone keeps me company;
Is there anyone who can see the dialogue occur?

Rousing verse demands stimulating gathering.
Song of the pea-cock needs a flourishing forest.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes )

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.