The Loves Of Thomas Hardy Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Hardy, your love for architectural skill is hereditary,
Inheriting it from your stonemason and local builder father,
Thomas and Jemina,
And in the repair of churches,
Saw you the stories of human relationships and love-making,
The girl reading the Bible,
Full of love,
The torso and the bust of stone
In love or proposing,
Relationships in fissure and fusion,
Turning stone.

Emma Lavinia Gifford, you married her after espousing for long,
Meeting hurdles,
Stiff opposition met on her family’s behalf,
But instead of it, carried you on, lived on with expectation,
But estranged all you
And again after death, married you younger secretary,
Thirty-nine to forty years to you, Florence Emily Dugdale.

Hardy, I do not understand your marrying at the age of an older age
That you chose to marry Dugdale,
As I do not understand the purpose of your marriage,
Is it a marriage or a mockery of that,
What did she really from you,
Or, just your for your glory sake
Married she you?

Hardy, what kind of lover were you that you proposed before and married
A young girl like, Dugdale,
Keeping her in the dark,
Showing off your prowess
That succumbed she to you,
Got enchanted, fascinated with you
And chose you, her,
Making her do the greatest sacrifice?

To be a romantic is not to destroy one’s life for just yourself,
You should have thought about her pretty heart, god soul
That she devoted herself to your service,
Devoted not, dedicated herself
And felt shattered for you at your death,
But you relapsed in Gifford’s past dreams.