That is what is
of what was not
for history was for victors
to create the immortals
while the poets wrote for
what lay at the margins
as the shadows
for the dark disorders
It is in their grain
that I spring and
in their music I sing
its in the fleeting beauty that I lie
for that is all I have
nor desires to capture, none to conquer
to leave imprints on sands
to be blown away in the wind
for immortality was a desire
to be forever known through what they did
through what they wrote
to always etch themselves on the hands of time
My song was what I took from you and you and you
you who were all around me,
you who were born before me and will live after me
you who will live in me and through me
you which was the nature and the songs of birds
colours of rainbow and tranquility of moon
the sparkle of the dew and the coolness of the rain
the cry of the new born and the sobs of mother lost her child
you who lived torn, divided
burnt asunder and taken apart
by nationalities, by greed
by hatred, by forsaken loves
destinies unfulfilled, hopes denied
you who lived inconsolable griefs and still trudged on
still sung the song when everything was falling apart
still stuck by the last straw to create hope
you, the forlorn child of the decaying humanity
you who were caught like dangling leaves from trees
in the violence unimaginable
For you I write and like you I am
a mortal and like you I will
be burnt into ashes or turned into dust
for immortality was for victors
those who wrote history
and those wanting remembrance
and it was wars and violence in the end
Humans know mortality to feign immortality
how long will we play the game of ignorance?
really a good one...be a philosopher you see life as a mere stage/game, an Arab proverb says, which Shakepeare also echoes in: we are all mere players in a stage called the world!
ReplyDeleteur best Mano :) poetry for all of us...
ReplyDeleteThis is very good poem. First time, I feel that you have demobstrated a hope for poetic duty. I always have craved to see writings of this kind from you. I deeply appreciate this peome! This is replete with a poetic courage to claim that "See I am your poet". Honestly, I like this poem becuase it, in a way, endorses my view that poets, researches, and scholar should always act like people's secretaries. Not as a fate makers of theirs.
ReplyDeleteNice Poem...
ReplyDelete:) amazing as usual, and of a wholly new color than the last poem.
ReplyDeletereading this poem, the lyrics were booming in the back of my head, in the portentous voice of an oracle predicting the end of the world, or like Nero, watching the Rome burn. Kudos to you :)
Your lyrical aesthetism gives so much pleasure reading ur poems. Please keep it up :)
(you can edit it at a point or two, some words could be even more awesome)
and btw, the poem has a very European feel to it :)
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ReplyDeleteManohar this is lajawaab. Amazing, the best so far. Now let me say, I wish I could write like you, I wish i could think they way you have thoughtin this poem. very nice poem. really liked it.
ReplyDeleteGreat Work...... so genuine
ReplyDeleteImpressive. The every single creation of yours. Even when I thought of quitting to write, these stuff pulls me to continue. To write. To work, on my dreams, without losing the last hope, the only support of self, to flourish. Thank you Sir, for this wonderful creation, and to let me to think again. "I THOUGHT THAT". My new work.
ReplyDelete