Neela Nath Das
Root - Poem by Neela Nath Das
Had he lived here? My grandpa?
Mother told a colossal building!
But the faded, wornout door no color.
Was that my father’s own house?
Hello, are you there? Mom knew the name.
Caretaker Hari? Yes.
None came, only the wailing wind shivered
The leaves leaves of the Mango tree, Rubber and.
The roots rolling down from an old Banyan tree
Telling of the saga ancestors'.....
I have got to know their language.
Comments about Root by Neela Nath Das
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You