Bijay Kant Dubey Poems

She is a playgirl and let her play as this is the age of playing,
Not to be burdened with books and copies,
Not with the heavy sacks on the back
Or the satchel on the shoulders,
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How, how did they come to feel it, view it then,
How the villagerly rustics and the uncouth people,
The countrified folks speaking vernaculars,
Provoking them, instigating with inflammatory statements
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Said they, talked they, dreamt and imagined they about People’s Government,
That the People’s Government would come into power one day
And their dream came it true,
The rural folks started packing their goods as for the capitals,
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The red China roses, have you seen then, come to feel and mark
Their beauty, colour and loveliness,
So fair and fresh, so lovely to look at,
Dazzling with the colour,
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The song of the kingfisher hear I singing from the top of the tress,
Perched on the high twigs and boughs
And singing from there,
The song of life, the zest of living.
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You sit in the studio and let me make a portrait of yours,
Let me with my pencil
A portrait of yours,
The dots and circles forming,
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Time, will you docket my poems or not?
Will my manuscripts be preserved for archival studies or not
Or will be thrown away?
Who will be the curator of the museum?
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You ask me and I shall what it is in my heart,
What has it happened to it,
How it undergoes upon it?
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O wild flower, how to view you,
Your beauty wild and unparalleled,
Wildly beautiful to look at,
Ravishing hue!
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Let me finish, said he, let me finish said again
And on hearing it, the second party too said it,
Le me finish, let finish,
One kept saying, another kept saying
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