Ears for Child-Rights
I want to spit blood, breathe fire,
Bath in acid’s seethe, sweet, dire,
Which god that hands young leaves O Hark!
It’s dark, dark, darker than dark.
More…more; satiated not have I yet,
With stark realities behind mine years wet: -
Ears true make which true a difference,
As far as sun or moon are hence.
Some deep, deep as Arab sea,
Some shallow, shallow as naked lea,
Some gentle tender as robin bloom,
Some mountain like, unmoved as doom.
As candles unsafe bear children words,
As in fingers claws of fickle birds.
No stately bard can them outstrip,
Nor as them his breast rightly can strip.
There are words, words were there,
Words remain and will be there.
Fewer, fewer of lexicon words but,
Words and tears how smooth they fall!
Till ears unfaithful heave on a wall.
Words and tears of joy may be few,
As long as ears misted are by dew.
AMANYU T, KALPAKKAM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.