Had I An English Sweetheart, White And Beautiful! / An English White Beloved For To Be An Indian English Poet Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Had I an English wife,
A white jasmine as my better half,
I would have been surely a famous poet,
But I am helpless now
As because the other incumbent
Speaks she in a vernacular,
But threatens to finish my manuscripts
By putting into the earthen oven,
That countryside, foolish rustic lady,
I mean my just literate country wife
Asking me to take to the fairs and the cinema halls,
Asking me to brings the cosmetics for her,
Which forget I to bring
But promise I to be with,
As for the wafts and whiffs of poesy.

And after being grounded so often, I think it now
That I shall not be able to fly so high
As the weather conditions not favourable to me
So it is better to relinquish the dream of
Becoming a poet,
A son of the soil,
You return back to and leave writing poetry,
As you can never be a poet.

Had I an English wife,
I would have been a poet,
But the problem lies it with the Indian wife
Who quarrels with so much,
Sometimes in a fit anger hurls my papers,
Insults me for poetry-writing
As for being busy with writing and writing.

Sometimes asks me curiously,
'What does poetry give to you,
Why not to sell old books and pale sheets of papers,
Why do you spend so much
Instead of purchasing the jeans pants, shirt and goggles
And dressing up well,
Why are you so old, outdated and outmoded? '