Shouvik Narayan Hore

In the mundane darkness of the morn,
The world awakened in its scorn,
Writes the weary pen on pages torn,
Tales of castles and mysteries forlorn.
...

O silent, silent Moon!
Teach me thy silent ways,
O teach me how love love defrays -
Besides thy silver-scented shoon.
...

Here lies One whose name was writ in water-
 
O Delphic streams washing aged tombs by!
A single glance spare when violets cry
...

'Tis been long years at college; I see
Where aspirations higher be,
Here art its own art fine demeans,
Does knowledge at her misuse kneel
...

Perhaps this July Moon shall wander no more.
The ever radiant object of this still sky,
Flyeth no more, nor feign sympathy's cry,
But remains present within deep heart's core.
...

Life-sprouter Sun! Thou showered forth thy rays
On this tiny seedling that timid lays,
Beneath the loam clayed soil for umpteen days;
Before thy light like a blessing poured all
...

I have heard, the look of a starlit night
Moved men to raptures; I never had felt
Such aweful serene, until once I met
One brighteous moon, in whose warmness thought
...

Satyavan Uprose. On his twirled lips

Rose petals fell. The lap of Savitri
...

The sun shines high above the vales,
The spring flower seemeth to tell tales,
If winter comes, I'll in your arms rest,
When morning awakens, thy beauty shines best.
...

Stand upon the solid mound. You will see
A higher mount - A rising chain of them,
Empty except a few low-lying hills
And a massive lake - that is all there is.
...

Here are plantain leaves of my village,
Beneath which playing our childhood had passed;
Sometimes at a distance one chastised sage
Would profoundly for hours there meditate-
...

‘It is impossible to love and be wise.'
Francis Bacon

In the perpetual world of mist and dew
...

The Sun was Cold.
Between two shafts of clouds
The moisture hung pale and sad; the sound
Of mountain music had swept his sense. Here
...

My companion through thick and thin of life!
No balance measures, nor no love exceed
Who uncomplained on my fancy doth feed,
Who confronts the world to save me from strife;
...

I sit amongst dozens of ancient books,
While Shelley in mystic abodes doth breathe,
Those works of Wordsworth my natural hue shooks
When Haidee in Byron's vigoured laps writhes,
...

Night is come- perfectly stealthy, and quiet,
The owl's screech- hurriedly haughty, heard low,
What heaved air, mystery profound- staunch breasts
At fronts bleak- aloofing sighs, furred wings
...

The Northern Latitudes of Arctic hold
An Island far inside the Russian lines,
Where naught are the Polar ice and snow
Nor Winters with afflicting cold and death,
...

In my boyhood days my father said
'Of no perils is my son afraid,
When I am there no wizard shall rise
And with his wicked spells yourself scare
...

Where are those purple dawns and purple dusks?
Those twilights that twinkled on violets blue,
The perfume of dendrons whose sensuous musk
Travel many a mile; Oh! What bizarre flu?
...

Lord of the lord, spirit of spirits, hear!
Rise as the cyclone riseth from the sea,
Pilot the clueless sands up and around,
Aplomb with power- undying and free.
...