How I wish to scuttle alone
Over a gentle river from bank to bank
In a small boat rowed with a bamboo pole
While the seagulls fly shrieking over my head
And the clouds sail drawing queer patterns on the sky
Difficulties come one after the other. Life is hard. Beautiful poem. Thank you.
Beautiful imagery of words painted in canvas. I could picturise it well. Loved the way you presented it.
Well, comments from Bri apart (count on him pounce upon, given a chance...but I find his comments quite welcome) I enjoyed the poem. It creates a picture beautifully.
This is really a great philosophical poem having touching expression with a nice theme. Life is like a river having two banks like birth and death. Beautiful metaphor too. Thank u dear madam for being capsulized grand theme in a tiny cell.
After a lot of efforts I got this poem that is not read by me, and now I am going to read it................Read it, and read the comments too......................I understand river as life, having two banks, birth and death, Bamboo pole is struggle. I don't mind use of word scuttle. Efforts and struggles in life, difficult sometimes impossible like scuttling on water. Small Boat are the limited opportunities that one gets in his life but being satisfied and content the river gently flows to the final destination.
A fine whim quite naturally expressed madam. But your small boat has to take you on after realising that at the sea-mouth strong currents are awaiting. One hopes your gentle river never rushes towards such a sea at all so that as a small sailor lost in this pleasant past time you will rejoice to no end. A good five liner with fifty pleasant ripples surfacing its gentle face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The great imagery as good as heavenly............Valsa...............nicely composed.........