The Water In Boat Poem by Satish Verma
The Water In Boat
Understanding the poverty
of the earth, the pain,
of the primal tribe,
invoking the god of sky.
In my victory, I was stabbed.
I will go and meet the sea.
You are there, O hunger
of home and peace, mute
as a stone, baked in
sun, waiting for the ripples.
I will burry the blackberries
in dreams, the lips will
seek the silence of a stroke,
when moon walks in unannounced.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 3:26:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
