I am a bard; they want me to sing.
They are the mob; history’s muted grunt, these;
They are the triumphs, the shames overpowering,
And the emptiness that comes to haunt the living before the end.
They are a multitude of impositions on this my soul so slowly crumbling under the weight;
They are the mob; my timeless hunt, these.
Yet they insist, wailing my name to the silent air
In prayer – or in rage, I can not know –
Not knowing my pain.
For I am a bard; and they want me to sing.
If only I had my legs, if only I had my eyes, a face to paint with oils fragrant :
I tell them so.
I am naught but ashes of mere remembrance –
Of memories of a withered visage but always disintegrating,
Of souls so gaunt that I but remain!
I am naught but reminiscence, an overfraught silence :
I tell them again.
But they will not listen :
They are a deaf race.
For they are the multitude, their’s is the song.
And I am the land’s music.
I am a bard.
And so I would sing!
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2 comments:
maine padha tera explaination of the poem orkut pe ..... anant ... mmm theek hai ... i get what you are trying to say through the poem ... a little ...
but
A. perhaps its not your style, but ill tell you what i like, telling things in straight lines and black and white colours, few words, fewer phrases, something i myself can understand.....
B. You sound impactful in the poem,
like NISHANT! ... that's a sin! lol ..
but ... yeah .. you were asking whether you should send it in the competition ..... i think you should, you'll definitely be appreciated, people generally think whatever they don't understand is beautiful ...
coz u CANT EVER UNDERSTAND what i've tried to express, emote and tell here devika.....as it was...ur words were useless.....
p.s.: godz know y i am so irritated 2day??
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