Snow clad peaks
Grazing clouds
Glazing meadows
Weeping weather
Poking sunlight
Busy birds
So much to adore
Words struggling to express
Nature at its best
Where many students
On a study tour
In Himachal Pradesh
Enjoying lush greenery
Moving over river bed
On a slender stream
Of beautiful Beas
When all of a sudden
Many of them
Were swept away
Quite mercilessly
Gushing water
Running everywhere
Reservoir gates
Thrown open
Without any caution
Human error
Destroying altogether
Though authorities suspended
And immediate action taken
Loss of lives
Whom to answer?
Wow. You paint a pretty picture with your words, much like an artist does with paint, then you smear it and smudge it and end it with tragedy...Very nice!
nice lines...arrayed in two distinct parts the celebratory first part a delight in the beauty of nature and a subsequent painful lapse, described well., , , thanx nice
This is Phenomenal! the rhythm is uninterrupted all through the poem.
Thank you Vijay. Playful phrases carry your reader to a place where all his assumptions have to be reassessed. A tragic event, thoughtfully and movingly described..
A tragedy of immense proportions. Great future swept away in an instant. Poem is full of concern and caution.
A glamorous nature poem that ends tragically. Sad to read. Nature is destructive too.
This poem which starts describing an idyllic scene that turns into a catastrophe halfway shocks in an unexpected the mind. It is very powerful. Chris
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you so much for your Poet's Notes here. There is indeed tragedy in many beautiful places that strikes the heart as incongruous with God's heart and God's wondrous creation. A precious friend of mine recently lost her whole family in Himachal Pradesh and nearly died herself. God may know indeed that these things are going to happen, but His/Her advance knowledge of future disasters I have to believe (even if he could stop it and doesn't for His own reason) does not make Him responsible for it either. One might as well ask the more personal question, 'God, why does death exist at all, why do I have to die? ' Who indeed is there to answer and how are we to take that answer in and make sense of it. That my friend is perhaps the reason that poetry exists and I await your further thoughts on the subject. I am pleased to encourage you with a 10.0.