April Poem by Prabir Gayen
April
April
(Season of thoughtless Muse)
*******
In this dull days of April hour,
Flowers grow in the valley shower,
Honeybees make buzzing song,
Collecting honey that drops on leaves,
Dull days with dull dalliance,
The stream is like big mirror,
Mountain is like silent Arbor,
April is a season of no season,
Winter summer and spring are
In competition to adorn the valley,
A deep pain is leaping with the
Joy of life in dull pleasantry,
A coition with the spirit of death,
The valley inside and the valley outside,
The mirror within mirror and with
No image,
In silent celebration Life is a deep
rumination,
April stands as a boundary line,
From horizontal to vertical,
From love with pain to Love without
dream,
From Joy with dream to Dreamless
Aloofness,
On the shore of life a halo
of other shore,
With all the joys and love of Nature,
With all the forms of enjoyment,
The magnetic pull is from other Shore,
April and it's silent Muse is
like a boat to me,
Like a ship to Cross the lifting
waves Of anamnesis,
The dream the hope and the Vows,
The Urge to taste life to the Fullest,
April is a season of death and desolation,
Not the pain but meditation,
A contemplative Jump into
the bottomless fragrance,
Hanging on the branch of Mimosa
Having no root,
It is a season of dull departure,
Within and without an incomplete
Journey to Fullness.
****************
April is a season of death and desolation, Not the pain but meditation Sharp insight with cool objectification about something important for me to read at this time- adding to my position on a recent death of a friend from when I was a child. This shall help me snap out of my pain and shock. Again, thank you Prabir for shedding livable emotions on everything!
A wonderful and perceptive write on life. A poem that deals with the many phases and intricacies of life.
In places that are considered tropical countries, April is just like other months of the year. Yet, in countries that have four seasons, April could be seen as a boundary line as what the Poet stated in this poem. " April is a season of no season."
coition 1n the act of engaging in sexual intercourse lovely choice of words PEE GEE TOO APPROPRIATE
April is a season of no season, Joy of life in dull pleasantry, A coition with the spirit of death.... //.... I appreciate your poetic style which involves a great deal of experimentation to enhance the overall impact of your expression. Thanks a lot, Dear Friend.
As another poet once said, April is the cruelest month. However I think I enjoy your image of it as a harbinger of change. Its the season where dead things slowly start to come back to life. Another winner Prabir 10!
Wonderful......... Wonderful poem. Really amazing.Thanks. Anjandev Roy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/7/2025 7:25:43 PM # 1.0.0
well they say April is the cruelest month