Tuesday, 14 June 2011

desert maid

rising from the desert storm,
a desert maid I am;
lying in the arms of the sand
low below the dusky sky;











in my hand I take some sand
out they slip one by one;
counting I need to learn again
for I cannot number them out;

with hands so hot
and winds so harsh;
skin so dark
and water so scarce;

I am a granule among these dunes
a rose in the desert
that thrives on air 
and rises from nowhere;

here we live with our
distant relatives;
the sun , moon and earth;

I rise from dust 
and shall vanish here;
but remains my mark
.......which slowly the winds shall change;

remains so strong 
that winds be lame;
on hitting it
it shall turn to breeze;

such are the mortals here for
a change that will live on..............
rest will return with the wind

rising from the desert storm,
a desert maid I am;
lying in the arms of the sand
low below the dusky sky........


5 comments:

  1. bangla ta likhte ektu asubidhe hoy kintu bahloi bodhay

    ReplyDelete
  2. jader olpo olpo bangla porar practice ache tader eta porte sotti osubidhe hoeche as amar hoeche...bt nice one...

    ReplyDelete
  3. porar somoy sob kota matra ek dik baan dik kore porte hbe kintu

    ReplyDelete
  4. Replies
    1. sorry it was a bengali poem.......and probably the most precious one!now it's lost.......because of my folly -will redo it sometime!But it can't be the same.......

      Delete

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