A POET’S SOUL
As the present gradually gets consumed by
And the future burns in the altar of the
What ultimately remains are the crystal
dew drops, -
Of our evanescent moments!
And as we slowly drown ourselves, -
Inside the unknown depths of the mirror’s
Which one day shall forget to reflect our
But the poet’s soul remains oblivious, -
Of our life’s eternal stance!
And at an advanced age, he continues to
write his verse!
And you can also find him in his garden,
Planting young saplings of new plants!
- Raj Nandy
i liked this poem.....the poet sows the seed, generations, reap the fruits.a good poet lives for all times.raj, the more i read, i like them even better.my best wishes. ritty
So plant more saplings, Rajda....more young minds...nurture them..for the morrows. And the poet is immortal.. Cheers. Subroto
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Wisdom in a poem. Thankfully the gift is enduring and will outlive the poet. Beautiful.