He Is A Poet - Not An Infant Poem by Samanmalee Abayasiri

He Is A Poet - Not An Infant



A poet weeping like an infant
Not for sorrow
But for joy ……………..
For a treasure vanished
But found anew ……….
Familiar is thy face
It resembles my son's
May be it's my father's
Or is it me myself………….

Oh! Most learned
He bears a poem
A poem written anew
After a lapse of an eon
He'll come with glee

Please feel free
To be constructive
To make it fine..........
Oh! Please be kind enough
Kind enough to be his critique
Make him to make it a fine poem
To tell him what's good and bad

His quill which wrote many verses
Became unspeaking for ages
What made it to become silent
Could be many reasons………………….

The beautiful spring of thoughts
Sprouting from the depth of his sole
Alas! The spring dried up
Making the fields barren
The fields of thought and words
With plantlets of metaphors
During a harsh drought …………

A harsh drought time indeed
A time of shallow literary pieces
Hollow melodies becoming masterpieces
Alas! The spring dried out
The spring of sweet sonnets …………..

The wretched materialism
Materialism of free economic spasm
Gloomy daunting days of the realm
And a never ending thread of trials

Could be the reasons for his silence
But today the most learned
He’ll come to you ……………
Come to you with a poem
Written in eons ………….
Please be kind enough to assent
Assent him
The poet……..

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This is a translation of a poem written by the lyricist, poet Yasanath Dhammika Bandara in Sinhala.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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