The Bell Rings Poem by RAJAT GHOSH
The Bell Rings
The bell rings, rings and then rings again,
To mark one's end and another to begin,
The bell rings with swift successions,
The bell does never know your emotions.
The bell rings and all become steady
It's the turn to make him ready,
Aged he is, his hair is white and curly
Some sings, he is gone too early.
The bell rings time and again
Another is ready to begin,
Young she is, her hair is black and bright
Her beauty to be brunt in a few minute.
Yes, it's the bell of the lovely crematorium
Corpses are to burn in this silent sanatorium,
Time stops here and all your money and fame
The bell rings, all arrogance are already gone.
Yes, the bell rings again
Perhaps your's time to begin...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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6/1/2024 7:00:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A poignant piece that depicts the undeniable truth! While going through your expression, I learnt from your note that your beloved uncle has left this mortal world..RIP
Really I feel a strange realization standing in front of the Crematorium. In an electric furness it takes 40 to 50 minutes to turn the mundane body into mere ashes. The bell is there. It rings to mark the end of the process and at the same time another dead body is ready to turn into ashes. The bell never stops. We are really the poor players upon the stage of life.