Yawning, drooping and waiting in queue
From four pm till seven in the eve
Were the patients, solace sought, seeing anew
From the specialist professional, all well knew
Many walk in, as time ticks on, and inquire
Did he...? Hasn't he...? Not come yet...err?
To all, attendant had one simple answer
He is coming, sit and wait, in short n’ sweet burr
Coughs, groans, sighs nay scratches
Butting in, now and then, unpretentious
Murmuring, whispering, grumbling
Drowsing, grousing, dosing, no ear catching
Overwhelmed calmness, in lounge, weird
By tick-tock taps, intermittently disrupted
Of duty conscious attendant’s shoes,
Harmonized with fanning wheezy breeze
First one on the queue called at four pm
Still keeps watching the ticking wall clock
At half past six pm, in grimed mood
Fortunately, not loosing hopes, as yet!
There he comes at last, at six fifty pm
Stethoscope slinging round neck, in form
Heavy looking brief case on one hand
Looking low on heavy steps, sans smiling face
Walks passing patients rising to welcome
In long strides to his hideaway in official den
Through attendant holding door for him
He is the savior to sufferers most needed then
Consultant by profession, hired for a purpose
To spare a moment for patient’s life’s worth
Patiently waited patients, they are
Godforsaken at the helm of a mentor, by far
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Waiting in queue to see a specialist in a hospital is a tiring task, testing one's patience! Unfortunately by some reason, the doctor doesn't turn up in time. The queue again lengthens. The patients wait looking at the ticking hands of time. They yawn and rise from their seats, feeling greatly fatigued! A typical hospital scene is described in vivid details!