My eyes haven't become glass balls...
they well when they see dolour
of deprived churls;
blood curdles,
somewhere deep from the entrails
bursts out aloud, a painful shrill!
People sneer; call me a fool
'This world you can never overhaul!
Reconcile! Mingle with the evil!
Learn the art of survival! '
These are morals from grass blades,
with winds in tune that waggle.
But I wish I live like a lotus,
born and dwell in filthy pool,
I still fight the surrounding foul!
Poets are like lotus. Bearing stinging pain they contribute the essence of heart. Thanks a lot. Tapas Baidya, Kolkata, India.
lotus..nice choice for personification....i wish I''m like a lotus too.....fragile and beautiful to look at but has the capacity to survive...drought may come but its roots bore deep down to grasp for water in order to live..it may wither but will still rise up after the rain and continue living.. delicate outside but strong inside...strong enough to overcome evil and difficulties....nice piece....nice comparison..a 10++ for this...
Very Beautiful Nice Piece, Good Talent, Thanks for sharing. -Brie
Finally, Grass is trampled and becomes the fodder, whereas Lotus adorns the place of gods! Beautiful poem!
Nice one, Satyanarayana garu; Lotus is part of classical Indian imagery- skilfully used here
The theme of this poem is admirable and universal. The metaphor of the lotus flower finding the light from roots way down in the primordial slime is inspiring. I must agree with Jefferson though. It would be wonderful to read your words in their original tongue. I believe your translation doesn't do your poem justice. love Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
'Mingle with evil Learn the art of survival” a replica of the order of the day. the shortness, and personal association, and art of conveying the obvious are the things a like most your writintings. i felt reading it. [email protected]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow a brilliant poem by a brilliant poet