I Am Reminded Of The Words Of The Bard Poem by Om Chawla
I Am Reminded Of The Words Of The Bard
When earth shakes in the womb of the ocean'
Swelling water surges in furious tides,
Boats and ships are torn asunder,
Coast and cities are ravaged and destroyed,
I am reminded of the words of the bard,
'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods
They kill us for their sport.'
When a group of fishermen after day's labour,
With a cache of fishes fruit of day long efforts,
Return in the evening and land is in sight,
Suddenly their boat capsizes and all is lost;
I am reminded of the words of the bard,
'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods
They kill us for their sport.'
When bus full of pilgrims visiting a temple,
Chanting and singing Lord's praises,
After paying obeisance while returning,
Skid and fall into a gorge and perish;
I am reminded of the words of the bard,
'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods
They kill us for their sport.'
When farmers after months of hard labour,
Succeed in raising crops of cereals,
A source of sustenance for millions,
Rains and floods destroy the harvest;
I am reminded of the words of the bard,
'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods
They kill us for their sport.'
When a doctor treats an ailing child,
A mother's hope, purpose and pride,
Support in old age who would provide,
Recovers from ailment but in accident dies;
I am reminded of the words of the bard'
'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods
They kill us for their sport.'
How very true are the words of the bard,
'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods
They kill us for their sport.'
Fantastic poem. Loved the beautiful flow of words.... How very true are the words of the bard, 'Like flies to wanton boys are we to gods They kill us for their sport.' How true are these words. Loved the way you presented it.
A good appreciation of the Shakespearean end lines in every stanza..
Thank you for sharing such a great poem! Yes indeed, those times may have been called sport, today I think we may call self defense. The poor fishermen works hard these days, they're catching tons, on their table, fish, a miss! The pray goes continents away to feed the pets, while the people around the river sea or lake are starving, gross. As for the roads, does anybody knows how many tons of asphalt our world ground holds? Farmers, are forced to use genetic modified seeds and pesticides, tons! In order to survive. I wonder now, could I be right? Who plays with our lives? Could I believe to be the gods?
Excellent Om, my feelings too along with the Bard, although I am atheist. We have to look out for each other in this world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 7:35:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Great write Sir! When the unanticipated happens, when sudden tempests rock our life's vessel, when innocents, cruelly snatched away by the hands of cruel fate.. we are apt to conclude- 'Like flies to wanton boys, are we to gods, they kill us for their sport'! But who can delve into the mysteries of the universe and the schemes of the Master Planner! There must be a purpose behind everything.. I liked the last but one stanza the most! How a mother's hope is shattered! |