Imitation Of Supreme Poem by Satish Verma
Imitation Of Supreme
A bizarre dream,
You come out in starry
night to touch the moon,
and fall on the thorns.
The eccentric nobility
of lords demands the
evidence of slaughter.
But chariot comes empty.
Order, order.
Someone fails in boots.
You walk barefoot
to meet the god of untruths.
The victim stands
like a prey before the grand
master. The beautiful
pagoda implodes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 4:15:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Wonderful imagery in this poem dear Satish.