You Give Me My Statue And I Shall Go Away Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

You Give Me My Statue And I Shall Go Away



You give, give me my statue,
The golden statue of Radha and Krishna
Found from the rubbles and ruins
Of the terracotta temples,
Centuries old and small brick built,
Lying as a mouldering heap
Of baked clay and small bricks fallen,
The pillars and columns earthed into
And dilapidating,
Telling of an age gone by!

You give me, give the statue,
Black, but golden,
Black as for lying under
Or may be it so
As for to hide in from commonly public gaze,
The antique statue,
Give me, give me,
Whatever be the probable reason
Which but I shall not confide in,
Whatever be that,
It's, it's a thing
Which the eyes cannot behold any more.

A thing golden, antique and ancient,
Old and dating back to
An age of yore,
Lived and gone by
And made then
By the craftsmen or the artisans,
Artistes and goldsmiths
Unknown the maker and the buyer,
Taking and giving the statue
Cast in gold
And weighing in present-day markets
As a valuable,
Rarer and priceless.

A statue of the museums
Where it should have been
I am viewing, viewing it here,
A statue rarer and priceless,
A statue never to be seen again,
A statue of Radha and Krishna,
Krishna and Radha,
Blackly, but golden,
Never to be seen, never to be viewed again,
One from the rubbles and ruins
Of terracotta temples,
Falling, dilapidating and deciphering.

Thursday, March 13, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Art
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success