Stars say all fall...
Aft hath twinkle thee
Rains say us pours...
Hind O! cloud crinkle
Wind say thy blow...
Aft pressure prickle
Tears say thee roll...
Rear sadness cry tingle
Sun sees all shine...
Crested dawn tis sprinkle
But life I say dies...
Aft dreams a wrinkle.
A lovely poem about the coming of age of a writer. Aporva kala in his book LIie..Love..Kumbh.. brings out the need of a boy to create, to follow an uncharted path and to live in his own terms. Quite like the Portrait of an Artist by James Joyce...Lovely poem...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Alright, it was ok. Not bad.