Incapabilityby Ashim Kumar Das
It's the voices I hear from the far-off seas
and the symphony echoing in my sun-boiling blood.
Homer calls me,
Dante's sky calls – "Come on"
to the ultimate limit of poetry,
to the blue stillness arising out of light-circles
in millions and millions of skies.
Too small is my sky
where the flames of light are faint,
where break storms of light and darkness,
the lifetime of the words I use
proves too much mortal.
The love that runs in my blood
like the fog on the river –
I know I will never be a star
at any bend in the deathless sky.
Yet Homer goes on calling me,
Dante's sky calls back – "Come on"
to the wordless blue far away.
Yet I hear over and over again
the symphony echoing in my sun-boiling blood
and the voices coming from the far-off seas.
Poetry by Sofiul Azam
Read 830 times
Written on 2005-10-14 at 12:07
Tags Warmth  Anxiety  Hope
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