This Old Man Poem by Shamik Kumar Bose
This Old Man
I often see this old man in the lane
It is now my time when everyone sleeps
The silence of a quiet night shoulders the numbness of the lonely lane
drooping like him
descends over the eneven bricks of this lane
knocks my heart like a door bell rung by a Gestapo Officer
When this world will end
I shall be meeting him again at the point of destruction
This old man!
April 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/26/2026 11:06:39 AM # rel_20260825T124344Z_022792b
