Don't Throw The Pebbles Poem by Satish Verma
Don't Throw The Pebbles
The name between the
dots, was it you,
my lost Firebird?
Listen, I cast off
my knighthood and wear
the tattered cloak to meet
my other self.
Stoke the flames. I
will burn my hands. Do not
weep for my books.
Who will write the
epitaph, when the grave
was desecrated for unknown sin?
The roaring fall
of empire― resonates
with the weeping clouds above
and bleeding earth below.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:12:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Amazing poem presenting a philosophical view of life. Thanks. I quote: Listen, I cast off / my knighthood and wear the tattered cloak to meet / my other self. Who will write the / epitaph, when the grave was desecrated for unknown sin?