Inner Realm - Autumn _Season Of Death.. Poem by Prabir Gayen
Inner Realm - Autumn _Season Of Death..
Inner Realm
Autumn _ season of death...
Flower is opening petals one by one,
With soft touch of season's sainted course, dewy.
With the advent of autumn nature is open,
With mild and mellow sweetness in limp light,
The birds are found singing, caroling ruin.
The season of mist heck on Summer's lease.
The dormant wish is falling on bosom,
soft sheltering caress of mother nature.
The song of autumn is silent psalmody.
The wavy grass ceases with dulcet tone of breeze.
The dry wind is ponderous through moisture.
In the soft dying day trees descant ballad,
For the departure of warm emotive days.
In meditative mildness the season,
The ruminanting nymph heralds new mood.
Calm and quiet is the Animus of tempus.
On the field where dew on grass is seeping,
Where the birds are silent for pain untold,
The Virgin Sprite is at work with thoughtless joy.
Life is a chain of soft splendid petals.
On the cessation of every petal,
an epoch is dead and life is felt false,
The moon above is dead as light on dew off.
Prabir showed me a different autumn. You showed me how she comes to you; and this shows that you are a perpetrator and a perky and lofty observer of nature. You live as a part of nature, and you find everything you need to express yourself.... thanks dr. Riza
Flower is opening petals one by one, With soft touch of season's sainted course, dewy. With the advent of autumn nature is open, With mild and mellow sweetness in limp light, The birds are found singing, caroling ruin.
The season of mist heck on Summer's lease. The dormant wish is falling on bosom, soft sheltering caress of mother nature. The song of autumn is silent psalmody.
The wavy grass ceases with dulcet tone of breeze. The dry wind is ponderous through moisture.
an epoch is dead and life is felt false, The moon above is dead as light on dew off
The wavy grass ceases with dulcet tone of breeze. The dry wind is ponderous through moisture....
The dormant wish is falling on bosom, soft sheltering caress of mother nature. The song of autumn is silent psalmody.
Flower is opening petals one by one, With soft touch of season's sainted course, dewy. With the advent of autumn nature is open, With mild and mellow sweetness in limp light, The birds are found singing, caroling ruin. The season of mist heck on Summer's lease
Flower is opening petals one by one, With soft touch of season's sainted course, dewy. With the advent of autumn nature is open, With mild and mellow sweetness in limp light, The birds are found singing, caroling ruin....///
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/19/2024 3:33:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Season of autumn and it's beauty....