'And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass.'
-Ezra Pound, American,1885-1972
That flamboyant tree
gave us shade,
Remember once
Under the burning Sun.
But now the branches
fall often?
Flowers never bloom,
So how do you expect
sweet fruits?
Birds changed their usual route
for better orchards.
And the hollow tree shivers
even to a small drizzle.
Though the tree dreams of a refuge
unless the friendly termites
does anybody interests of an old barren tree?
to my West bengal poet friend Pranab!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How an old man/woman mourns for the losing of youth is beautifully said. An unusual way of saying this old, baldmindedness.Rated *****