Amongst the filth
the sweet sound of the flute player
carries through the heated air
down the Ghats
the pilgrims gather
along the sacred river Ganges;
devoted to life,
birth and death.
Here in ancient Varanasi
against the backdropp of temples centuries old,
the soul of man
finds its own way home
amongst the filth.
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Comments about this poem (Varanasi by Diana Rosser )
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