It is raining dust outside
But seems mysterious mist
Through the tinted glass
Of my office
In the Arabian Gulf
This oil-rich desert land
A man-made haven of comfort
It comes they say
From far off lands
Like Ethiopia
Where stomachs burn
In scorching famine
A waterless terrain
Blessed by the genesis
Of the extolled great Nile
And as I look listening
To the hum of the a.c.
My spine radiating bliss
Of make-believe grace
Hollows stare at me
Set in them are cat-eyes
In the dark of the night
Of fire, thirst and hunger
That shame and haunt
My hypocritical posture
The dust-winds blow unabated
Clouding my vision
Every condemned being’s
Incurable blindness
An unceasing retribution
Though the dust winds you have made many of us aware of the plight that our unfortunate brethren suffer in the far away Ethiopia. By juxtaposing and contrasting the suffering and comforts, this poem has achieved a rich harmony that make us re-look into the whole situation.
Excellent collocation. Nicely and aptly penned. Highly speculated. Many thanks sir.
Along with the aridity of the Earth, you could also look into the aridity of life and the sufferings of a group of people living in scorched lands, with a sense of sympathy and compassion. It is contrasted with your own 'basking in the make believe grace' under the A/C! Wonderful poem with its credibility enhanced by an apt picture!
Such deep thoughts. What a wonderful mind you have. Many people would just see the dust and either just ignore or curse it, but you considered its origin and the plight of the less fortunate who were unlucky enough to be born where it was spawned. Other such dust travels west and fertilizes the amazon basin and brings brilliant sunsets but also has origins in the arid lands where suffering goes ignored by most of the world. We are all connected by the winds. If only that connection could be with hearts instead of dust
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice writing, nice thoughts, nice reading, Nice observation.
Thank you very much, dear poet Iyer, for reading and commenting on this very old poem of mine. Appreciate it very much.