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Discordant Harmony

Rating: 4.0


Poets my ancestors in Charyapada
talked a dialect that I myself don't know;
all their threads break in my hands.

I hear their words on my tongue
sound like birds flying
with the distant twilight wind,

their ideas that I try to understand
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Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Topic(s) of this poem: culture
Rex Islam 06 September 2006

This time also you are no more deviated from your characteristics and qualities of the good poetry, it’s a nice expression of your ignorance about the mysteries of the ancestor philosophers and it is really critical to perceive the real meaning of the ideas of that age or time. But the pursuers of the true knowledge are surely supposed to be aware of their knowledge and ideas before or after. Good piece of personal expression with various countryside images.

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Nibedita Deb 31 August 2006

Indeed a discordant harmony. It has been a while since I read a more matured work - being a woman who is always looking for beauty, and more beauty and just more of it in poetry - I agree I had to be decisive about this one in a different way - I admire you mauturity and profoundness of thought here. Your language as usual is vibrant. And thanks for the dedication. I am honoured. Nibedita Deb.

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