- My Stella - 30 Poem by Prabir Gayen
- My Stella - 30
my stella30
The river with full tide flowing
with facile swiftness.
It touched the blue legs,
and absorbed divine hearts down the ages.
It is streaming with soundless murmur,
in its bosom lies stories
strange and remote.
from the mighty Ravan to cursed ashwathama,
and from the legend and memoir
to diplomatic shrewdness.
Time is single and tied is
not enisled to cut into parts.
Thy bosom my dear is the mahabharata
of my soul,
I did see, the Gita of my heart
and ecstatic rapture of meditation.
O my stella, my timeless love,
the beauty of my being
lift me up close to inmost shrine
of impetus self of thine.
Forsaken and forlorn,
and waiting on frowsy stream of human skull
from cover to cover in the
Womb to come at thee.
my stella! the joy of my life
and the giver of bliss and boon,
autogenous to filthy felicity,
uplift me with thy holy sermon
of love and unsophisticated simplicity.
(2) Then there is 'Gita.... close to inmost shrine.... of human skull'. Perhaps you will not agree with me but I will tell you what has vexed me most. You have turned the unsophisticated simplicity of this poem into an unsophisticated complexity. In other words, an immensely captivating love story has been shorn of its natural beauty and curtailed its classical credentials. Some parts of the poem are truly marvelous but this adjective does not apply on the entire composition.
my stella, the joy of life and the giver of bliss and boon, autogenous to filthy felicity, uplift me with thy holy sermon of love and unsophisticated simplicity........
(3) O my stella, my timeless love... the joy of my life and the giver of bliss and boon I am neither a scholar nor a connoisseur of English language poetry and my opinions (I wouldn't call it an evaluation) don't count much and may not receive your approval. As such, you are free to delete it if you find it sub-standard or far-fetched. Thanks, Dear Friend.
Time is single and tied is not enisled to cut into parts. Thy bosom my dear is the mahabharata of my soul, ...! !
from the mighty Ravan to cursed ashwathama, and from the legend and memoir to diplomatic shrewdness. Time is single and tied is not enisled to cut into parts....! ! !
The river with full tide flowing with facile swiftness. It touched the blue legs, and absorbed divine hearts down the ages. It is streaming with soundless murmur, in its bosom lies stories strange and remote....! ! !
autogenous to filthy felicity, uplift me with thy holy sermon of love and unsophisticated simplicity...! !
my stella! the joy of my life and the giver of bliss and boon, autogenous to filthy felicity,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/8/2024 1:21:55 PM # 1.0.0
The poem emanates from pristine charms of nature facilitating two loving hearts to unite with facile swiftness. On the way they meet mighty Ravan (of Ramayana fame) and cursed Ashwathama (of Mahabharata fame) though they appear to be somewhat out of context in this fascinating love story.
Very thanks...dear poet your comment is ornament in either way...merit demerit...thanks