Shouvik Narayan Hore Poems

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