Fourteen crisp lines compose this narrow room,
Where ten-beat iambs pulse like steady hearts;
The A and B alternate through the gloom,
Until the first four-line quatrain departs.
Then C and D take up a fresh refrain,
To weave the middle of the poet's theme;
With rhythmic stress, we build a golden chain,
A structured dance within a waking dream.
But soft! At line the ninth, the Volta turns,
The E and F reveal a shift in thought;
The cooling ash of logic brightly burns,
As deeper truths and hidden goals are sought.
Then two last lines—the couplet—stand alone,
To seal the song and make its purpose known.
By Dipankar Sadhukhan
Kolkata, India.
Copyright@February05,2026.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem