Tag: dirge


And when the sun sets, and darkness descends We have to cross the river. No pain, no sorrow, no dirge, no lamentation.   Why do you cry, my friend? Let us be true to earth, Let us be true to life.   Let us go to an alien land And cultivate, and make rows of flower beds, And drink honey, and sleep on the heavy boughs of stars.   Let us look at the humongous dark trees And bath in the mellowed dew, in morn and evening too, And lie on long untrammeled grass.   Let us scent the wild


Top Comments

Subhash Chandra
Read More
"A gifted writer"

A gifted versetile writer who writes excellent stories and poems on the invisibles, pariahs, margins, aged, weaklings of our society. A rising star on the literary firmament.
Santosh Bakaya
Read More
Praise for my writing

“Your story Undersell left me with a lump in my throat, so did your poem, He also lights candles.”
Louis Kasatkin
Read More
Praise for my poem "Elderly Men Two"

"A finely honed observational piece recording the minutiae of everyday life. Rendered with the author’s customary poetic aplomb suffused with a Borges like quality of the mythic."

This website uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website.