He asked me to call him a great poet,
Homer, Virgil and Horace
As he used to edit a literary journal,
Again asked he to call him
A glittering star of the poetic firmament
And called I
Though was not.
His words seemed to be bombastic
Falling short of exploding,
Verbose and ornamental,
Artificial and jewelled,
A poetatster he was,
A rhymer,
A non-poet and a commoner
Making a tryst with Indian Englsih verse writing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem