To William Blake Poem by Gajanan Mishra

Thank sir, namaskar,
You are silent
At present.
But we are barking
Like the street dogs.
We are wandering
In the night
And we have no torch.

Thank sir, namaskar,
We are signing here
The cradle song
Without beauty bright.
You are there and
You have forgotten
Your capacity to
make us awake
From our sleep.

Thank sir, namaskar,
No thief is here
To tell us the truth
That is there in you.
We are not blind sir,
We have not touched
The eternity at this time,
We are rich no doubt
But we have nothing to give.

Thank sir, namaskar,
You are hearing,
That's enough for us.
And we are no more to love,
Love is not for us.
The pet dogs are there, sir,
To weep, to mourn, to worship.
We know sir, to worship
Is to mourn. And to mourn
Is to die with the new dresses.

We want to put on
The new dress that are
Given by you sir.
But excuse us, we are
Not able to select
The befitting dresses
That are made for us.
And you are silent,
And you have nothing
To tell anyone here.