Dr Harish Yadav Poems

Let no man gild the cannon's mouth with praise,
Nor call the smoke of ruin noble breath;
For war is but the art of ending days,
A patient architect in league with death.
...

I never asked for flowers
to soften every mile,
nor for the trees to hold me
in their tender, passing smile.
...

In a land covered with blooming flowers,
I was born in the past as grass.
I heard that time also,
The sound of your flute made of brass.
...

To Dissolve in You

I wish to hold you not with arms,
but with the gravity of silence—
...

You may ask me
to know you completely.
To name you.
To hold you.
...