O, No More Strain, July Poem by Pijush Biswas

When the morning birds came swaying their realm
Or, blue heaven larked upon their bounty play
When the country children came to overwhelm
Or, blue heaven did become stark to delay
When the old meadows prayed cattles to come
And heaven's grey face responded not to graze
When all humans chanted Mantras to purify home
The blue heaven, at least, was not so as to blaze
Yet I, with bless of July never thought to murmur
Upon the old familiar postures of year's continuity
So I as much as I could did endure
To the unwilling, bestowed mystery of pity
Or, to hold on germs of mandate of half year
So that I can again uplift my heart to gain
Or stray all miseries, heard already, or yet to hear
Of my country's people; O, no more strain!