Like last year,
This year
too,
Delhi's spring flowers,
The semals
Are in full bloom.
But their sensuality, Voluptuousness,
Riots of dark, passionate colors,
Their thick, exposed flesh
No longer give any joy.
They bring on a lump in my throat,
Bringing forth images
That I keep kicking
Into the dustbin of my mind.
Last year
Too,
Many Semals fell everyday,
Making way for more.
Those that went, returned.
And those that returned, went.
No gain, but no loss either.
So it was easy to accept
As God's will,
Mother Nature's special way of rejuvenation.
Their sight aroused great joy and elation.
But this year, their blooming, falling, getting swept aside
Forces me to dwell on the hidden meaning,
The horrors lurking around surfaces, around corners.
Well, who knows.
Next year, the semals
Might be the only ones
Around,
Freed from the forever greedy, tormenting human eyes.
Hmmm this a thought provoking poem loved it. Nice poetic piece, well done dear poet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The full bloom of Semal flowers with rejuvenations, sensuality, and Voluptuousness, became apocalypse this year due to outbreak of Coronavirus - Covid-19 a pandemic which has taken away thousands and thousands of lives. You have touchingly and astutely inscribed this fact through Delhi's spring flowers, the semals. A brilliant poem in time is well executed. Thank you dear madam, full vote.