THE CLARINET MAN
He might have been in his early fifties,
When last seen at the dusty bus stand;
Standing with a shining ebony clarinet
in hand!
With a week’s stub on his pointed chin,
With a gray hat on his head over a frame
rather thin!
He wore a checkered brown coat, -
As he boarded the bus which faded down
the narrowing road!
And inside the bus he played his pipe, -
His music drove off the silence left behind!
And no one ever saw him again, -
As he disappeared into space and time!
-Raj Nandy
25 Mar 09
His music drove off the silence left behind! And no one ever saw him again, - As he disappeared into space and time, , , , , , , One day in existence and next day innoblivin...u can'ture of anything... beautiful write and deserves vdery good 10
A simple soul, this man. Disappeared into time. But his music was sublime....I'm sure. Cheers. Subroto
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have drawn a picture of one of many ordinary lives that come across in our everyday life there, Raj...more than the pipe and the music that came out of it, you seem to think more on the life of that poor man there...i liked the human love and compassion you convey in your write...10