I make Quietude
My creationhood:
At a time when
Dense dins die dry;
Gray shadows seem to ply
The roads of men,
No rambling compeers' foolish words
To vex my ears' rest-seeking beards,
No claw to prey on whate'er my spirit craves,
And vegetations restrain their soughing waves;
When Earth suspends me in the space,
No arms to offer a saving embrace;
When all i have is myself alone,
I keep myself to myself unblown;
I leave this idle state of things
To a closet, where i gain paranormal wings
To soar the sky of the subconscious realm,
A realm deluged by many an inspiring gem -
An Eden where the made from his Maker draws
Intelligence varnished, free of secular straws -
Where nature's setdown cryptical orders
Are fictional to their farthermost borders;
Where beauty exerts sheer artistry
Made substance by unscarred mastery:
Where the rainbow's septuple hues unfading is;
And the sun's ice-blazing beam undimming is;
Where raindrops summon host of fair flowers,
And bees harvest their nectars in due hours;
From there arises the majesty of nature's arts,
From there everything existing or yet to, starts...
To rip the hardskin of that impossible,
Draw deep the strength of Quietude;
To unveil the veil of that invisible,
Wear all the eyes of Quietude...
Arriving from this flame-fueling flight,
My writingpad boasts of many a charming sight
To make Quietude
A fascinating mood!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem