Poem Hunter: Poems - Poets - Poetry

Awake O Jadava, O Krishna the cowherd!
Who will take the cows to graze?
When hundreds of cowherds come thronging
Who will be their leader?
Awake O Jadava, O Krishna the cowherd!
Who will take the cows to graze?

Who will relish sweet dishes made from milk andghee?
Who will drink deliciously thickened milk?
O Hari, mighty like an elephant, who will bridle terrible Kaliya?
Who will bear the weight of the entire earth?
Awake O Jadava, O Krishna the cowherd!
Who will take the cows to graze?

While grazing the cows on the banks of Jamuna
Who will play the honeyed flute?
We will always please you by singing your praises, says Narsaiyya
Else, who will grasp our hands when we sink?
Awake O Jadava, O Krishna the cowherd!
Who will take the cows to graze?
...

Cried the navy-blue ghost
Of Mr. Belaker
The allegro Negro cocktail-shaker,
"Why did the cock crow,
Why am I lost,
Down the endless road to Infinity toss'd?
The tropical leaves are whispering white
As water; I race the wind in my flight.
The white lace houses are carried away
By the tide; far out they float and sway.

...

I saw you seated by the flame.
You outshone in frame and name.
This hand for faint a line I blame,
That has not painted you too well.

I searched you in the jostling crowd,
Your being when I saw set my core aloud.
Such face as yours is not behind the Cloud
As Nature still has painted you too well.


...

I wonder what those lovers mean, who say
They have giv'n their hearts away.
Some good kind lover tell me how;
For mine is but a torment to me now.

If so it be one place both hearts contain,
For what do they complain?
What courtesy can Love do more,
Than to join hearts that parted were before?

Woe to her stubborn heart, if once mine come
Into the self-same room;
'Twill tear and blow up all within,
Like a granado shot into a magazine.

Then shall Love keep the ashes, and torn parts,
Of both our broken hearts:
Shall out of both one new one make,
From hers, th' allay; from mine, the metal take.

For of her heart he from the flames will find
But little left behind:
Mine only will remain entire;
No dross was there, to perish in the fire.
...

They lie in parallel rows,
on ice, head to tail,
each a foot of luminosity
barred with black bands,
which divide the scales'
radiant sections

like seams of lead
in a Tiffany window.
Iridescent, watery

...

The rain withdraws,
and puddles are born-
purposeful pools
gathered like praying circles
in the hollows of the earth.
Children arrive first,
their laughter breaking the morning,
feet splashing through reddish-brown water
the elders step around
with practiced caution.

...

you've seen a strawberry
that's had a struggle; yet
was, where the fragments met,

a hedgehog or a star-
fish for the multitude
of seeds. What better food

than apple seeds - the fruit
within the fruit - locked in
like counter-curved twin

hazelnuts? Frost that kills
the little rubber-plant -
leaves of kok-sagyyz-stalks, can't

harm the roots; they still grow
in frozen ground. Once where
there was a prickley-pear -

leaf clinging to a barbed wire,
a root shot down to grow
in earth two feet below;

as carrots from mandrakes
or a ram's-horn root some-
times. Victory won't come

to me unless I go
to it; a grape tendril

...

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room

...

When the cold north wind blew
I still gave you hope
soon we will
walk in the cherry blossom grove
You held my hand tightly
and smiled peacefully
Just look
the flower buds are opening
towards the spring sun
and I will sit wordlessly

...