I Come From The Land Of Flowers Poem by Santosh Bakaya

I COME FROM THE LAND OF FLOWERS

I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.


Warbler dear, perched on that barren tree
Why are your chirps, ah, so melancholy?
D'you miss the daffodils who hasted away too soon?
Or mourn that back-slapping bonhomie,
Of that bygone time, the cheery camaraderie
When you dissolved in ecstasy, perched on the luxuriant tree?


Don't let your ears ring with screams of throttled dreams
Sing of the pageantry of meadows and cascading streams.
The scintillating grandeur of Chinar's magicality
The sunlight on the mountaintops and its playful vivacity!
Collect twigs of those happy times, chirp metaphors of peace
Sing not of mountains cowering in fear, or the primrose wiping a tear
No more of strawberries taking to their hearts the color of gore.

See, how baby conifers stretch their tessellated arms,
Streamlets babble, feisty wavelets ripple and roar
And frisky cubs nuzzle each other
In their juvenile bid to erase those memories of gore.

Remember, I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.


I COME FROM THE LAND OF FLOWERS

I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.


Warbler dear, perched on that barren tree
Why are your chirps, ah, so melancholy?
D'you miss the daffodils who hasted away too soon?
Or mourn that back-slapping bonhomie,
Of that bygone time, the cheery camaraderie
When you dissolved in ecstasy, perched on the luxuriant tree?


Don't let your ears ring with screams of throttled dreams
Sing of the pageantry of meadows and cascading streams.
The scintillating grandeur of Chinar's magicality
The sunlight on the mountaintops and its playful vivacity!
Collect twigs of those happy times, chirp metaphors of peace
Sing not of mountains cowering in fear, or the primrose wiping a tear
No more of strawberries taking to their hearts the color of gore.

See, how baby conifers stretch their tessellated arms,
Streamlets babble, feisty wavelets ripple and roar
And frisky cubs nuzzle each other
In their juvenile bid to erase those memories of gore.

Remember, I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.





I COME FROM THE LAND OF FLOWERS

I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.


Warbler dear, perched on that barren tree
Why are your chirps, ah, so melancholy?
D'you miss the daffodils who hasted away too soon?
Or mourn that back-slapping bonhomie,
Of that bygone time, the cheery camaraderie
When you dissolved in ecstasy, perched on the luxuriant tree?


Don't let your ears ring with screams of throttled dreams
Sing of the pageantry of meadows and cascading streams.
The scintillating grandeur of Chinar's magicality
The sunlight on the mountaintops and its playful vivacity!
Collect twigs of those happy times, chirp metaphors of peace
Sing not of mountains cowering in fear, or the primrose wiping a tear
No more of strawberries taking to their hearts the color of gore.

See, how baby conifers stretch their tessellated arms,
Streamlets babble, feisty wavelets ripple and roar
And frisky cubs nuzzle each other
In their juvenile bid to erase those memories of gore.

Remember, I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.






I COME FROM THE LAND OF FLOWERS

I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.


Warbler dear, perched on that barren tree
Why are your chirps, ah, so melancholy?
D'you miss the daffodils who hasted away too soon?
Or mourn that back-slapping bonhomie,
Of that bygone time, the cheery camaraderie
When you dissolved in ecstasy, perched on the luxuriant tree?


Don't let your ears ring with screams of throttled dreams
Sing of the pageantry of meadows and cascading streams.
The scintillating grandeur of Chinar's magicality
The sunlight on the mountaintops and its playful vivacity!
Collect twigs of those happy times, chirp metaphors of peace
Sing not of mountains cowering in fear, or the primrose wiping a tear
No more of strawberries taking to their hearts the color of gore.

See, how baby conifers stretch their tessellated arms,
Streamlets babble, feisty wavelets ripple and roar
And frisky cubs nuzzle each other
In their juvenile bid to erase those memories of gore.

Remember, I come from the land of flowers
And a love that overpowers
Straining to touch the moon, the clouds and the stars.