Marigold Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Marigold
God willing, she said,
Looking at the dwindling garden flowers
This winter we’ll have blooms of marigold.
Her clayed hands some smudged on her face
They speak of her hard stolen recess
From the grinding chores of running a family
And still when the wind turns cold
Dream for beds of marigold!
God willing
Before her dream’s warmth fades
The garden will be blooming with marigold beds.
In the daily grind of domestic chores, a home maker finds time to tend her garden! A pleasant diversion for her and an expression of aesthetic taste ! Enjoyed this simple write on a simple dream!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 9:02:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A really lovely poem, Pradip. I like the contrast between the grind of chores and the hope of bright (orange?) marigolds.