Diptesh Augustine Sarkar
21st Feb,2002 - Poem by Diptesh Augustine Sarkar
A sting long struck us
the venom now runs slowly
with blood; and time bears fruit.
The poet, the lover, the rebel
talks computer, talks America.
The fruit has redeemed their tongue
and so for them
all whose roots lie across the fence
raise cacophony, ring alarm
are nostalgic, passionate fools
myopic petty bourgeois
crying glory to a language
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