Ancient Echoes Poem by Satish Verma
Ancient Echoes
Art of dying
comes, after
you listen to the siren song.
The intention
was to kill yourself,
non-violently, when
moon was hiding.
Man was changing the skyline. You can
redraw the landscape without hurting the grass.
Don't offer to sacrifice
the goat on the rock,
where the shipwrecks took place.
You burn that, what you
would not eat. The
assassination charges were true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:47:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
