Varanasi Poem by Anway Mukhopadhyay
Varanasi
Thrills, lights. Songs like rotten petals.
Cameras of foreigners. Shouting boys.
The sun’s orange tears in the Ganges.
The procession of corpses towards another circle of light.
Dust and heat. A flower on a bull’s horn.
We wake up from illusions.
And the sun falls asleep in the evening circles of maya.
Then the arti begins.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: city
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
i dedicate it to all the people of Varanasi and all my friends at BHU. varanasi itself inspired me to write this poem.
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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3/15/2026 7:06:04 AM # 1.0.0
