The squirrels living in the trees next to our compound
Have begun to venture into our house!
I have long wished for it..
But...
They have the same innocent faces I saw once long before
And their alert looks bear the same resemblance
I often see them around me..
But...
These squirrels are unlike the lizards
That haunt the walls of the house like little dinosaurs.
These are the images of a friendly living..
But...
Voltaire`s letter to his niece in France
From the guest chambers of King Frederick I remember.
It said, 'Everything is fine here', But added
'But'....
I am in the same predicament of a strange kind-
These squirrels dread us not
They don`t look us at in fear of any kind.
But....
How can I speak out my thoughts now?
But how can I otherwise explain my 'But'?
So I tell it to you all my pals -
These squirrels are too many...
Squirrels, squirrels are everywhere
Every time, every one small and big
Is it a house for squirrels on spree?
What is this growing number dear ones?
I hear the squirrels playing
I see them all prowling around us
Unlike ever before unlike anywhere else
And I have spoken it out.
They have nestled on the ceiling of a room
And we hear them at some sort of play
A mother and a father may be playing there
With their babes in glee.
It is the problem of too many, dear sirs
It is the problem of their omnipresence, beloved madams,
Forgive us and forget my lines..
But...
The few over grown trees around our house
Often wear a deserted look, I feel
I am not bemused to think of a day coming soon
That we shift our residence to one of them!
A great poem, where I live in England there is many squirrels. I live across the road from a farm so we see them most days. A great write.
Well... dear Poet, A kind of an innocent introduction, developed into a healthy permeation, saturated up to an exasperating penetration, and the poet, with his honest, but placid concern, feels like this might even drive the native (thoughts, feelings, existence...) to migrate into the unpleasant and miserable domains unwillingly though. The squirrels still climb high, but with stolen (to us humans) nuts to dine upon the sweet hard kernel. We have often winked at them, save a few like you who pay heed to every pulse of an underdeveloped community, feeble and fragile even after liberty and independence repeatedly tolled in history. Still feels like carefully traversing on the lands of interpretations immense.. God Bless. Regards.
Here in GB, the grey squirrels have outnumbered our native reds which is a great pity. The greys are regarded by many as vermin, whereas the reds are are valued.
In modern poetry, we see poets using objects as images to target something related to modern man's life, so if we see some squirrel like thing that is ready to drive us out of our abodes, i am tempted to interpret as some unwanted element around us...But... i must say, i haven't touched your deep structure dinesh ji, so one thing's clear, you write wittily!
nice poem sir...like it... The few over grown trees around our house Often wear a deserted look, I feel I am not bemused to think of a day coming soon That we shift our residence to one of them! ...a harmless approach..
Strange things happen these days.... Every thing is topsy turvey! The squirrels that have once occupied the trees have now deserted them and have begun to sneak into every nook and cranny of the house... They have multiplied into such larger numbers, that humans have to shift their residence to the trees.... Very funny!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Squirrels are delightful to see and it looks nice when they play on tree branches. Also there are many problems attributed to them - they gnaw at wires, make holes in the walls and so on. My neighbor had a long losing bout with some squirrels who made home in his attic. There are reported cases where some towns lost power due to squirrels. Your poem is so beautifully rendered, Thank you.