Benu Bhutanese

Benu Bhutanese Poems

The Best Poem Of Benu Bhutanese

Come, My Friend

Come now, old friend; come with one hundred histories
That are written on your face after you left
And tell them all to me,
I shall listen to you like school children,
Listen to all the syllables, all the words, to the stops
And conjunctions—everything, that shall cut
Through me cancerous cells.
But come now, come my, old friend.
See, it has been long since we last met.
There were flowers on the lawn when we departed
And the doves symbolized peace there,
But I now there are but dust and past.
And isn't in too long, this separation?
After you are gone everything is a question.
This hands that do dull dances on the study tables,
Are they mine? Do they have a beginning in me?
The enigmas of your handwriting that I once loved
Are still here. I am bemused.
Now, come here; come my friend.
I have to tell you tales that I did not.
You did ask me once who I wrote the doggerels for.
Now I will tell you this, my friend—
"Who shall know of her better than you do? "
Come now, come with the monsoon rain
And I will be waiting in the summers in open fields.

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