Biography of Aman Saa
to me life has been a great teacher and I am learning always to live better, life has been nursing me almost more than a score of years and I have kept its care in a lab of reflection and viewed my passage...I am not what I was yesterday, you shall find me not the same on the morrow...for long ago had realized even death is not at halt and if we can do nothing, , even then we must keep moving at least...
Shall never regard myself as a poet, for I am not one. With too little knowledge of the language I stand no where in the scales. Poetry thus has been to me like a observation of this vastness of life, , and life has been much kind to me as since my very childhood it has shown me its vividness, , , one afternoon it showed the nest of time's rest and the other evening a heavenly sunset..one morning we met beside the shore of the mighty river of our land and one night we sat in the hill top and drank moon light...I live on a flow and poetry is the picture of the many waves I come across.
Have met some wonderful people here, , for that I am indebted to this place..
Aman Saa Poems
Mad Man's Song
Like a lost letter she stood for a while to go the other side of the road.. near me who was lying in a corner of this side…. For moments, it seemed she was the same soul in whose palms seeking fulfillment I search in mine…
I am the son of my village, , I am born in the dreams of my father and my childhood is his craft, and the blossoming of my mother's garden.
Story Of Love Untitled
In summer he saw her And on the first occasion of word It was wool and winter.. In between those disappeared months
time cannot have a name neither timelessness. But an awakening may arrive in a moment newness may begin
The twilight's incense has turned into a small heap; the prayers are asleep and God is making himself comfortable in the wooden frames.
Girl Of The City
Girl of the city What do you see in the girl of the city? Melodious intelligence or a riding scooty
Walk Of A Stream (From The Mad Man's Son...
A few drops of ink were trying to flow out into a blend of black and white... A few waves of music were trying to reach to their strings, , , to write and sing of emptiness, a little mine and a little yours... In what is no longer, seeking a place I walk and then I meet mine...
A Lady As Sandhya
She had often exclaimed that I was like the night A candle light cannot claim to explore whom, A riddle, or perhaps a crossword without a guide. She tried to fill me
Abstractions Of A Temple
It seemed like a sin is watching, from the camouflaged trenches. As she hid her scars with vermillion And draped her past in a raiment of promise
Homecoming Of A Wanderer (To Bhupen Haza...
He returned home through the same village roads, Some morning declaring his fight against time and its tides, through which he had gone. Declaring miles and miles of road shorter than his dreams through which he had gone..
Findings And Losings (Song From The Madm...
One day I opened a book and it happened that it showed me strange things, said it there stays some love for me in you, , , , , , , , , Moments passed of mistaken amazement for a little while later i realised that i the book was upside down when I opened it that day,
Your Old Diary
In the first page you had written I loved to weep One day I wept seeing the hunger In a street dogs face...
Images And Shadow Of Love
Some unsaid To be alive I do not need a life Gift me a few of your smiles Paint me and my moments with your touches
Little On Life
Life is strange,,, it teaches us to walk and smile in sunrise,, One day so it happens from the road of roses it sweeps us to the river of deserts..
Story Of Love Untitled
In summer he saw her
And on the first occasion of word
It was wool and winter..
In between those disappeared months
Each day he attended lessons on patience
And observed the occurrence of losing himself
When in his savings he felt enough