Subrata Ray Poems

Fade is the murmurs glory of Spring,
Weather is now rough,
The warmth of thousand hearts now wane to ring,
And empty is heart’s cup.
...

Alone alone I am,
For you Oh Shyam,
Radha in her bower cries,
Come here dear,
...

In seven notes, and four tunes,
You have preserved your lyre,
And you finger your harp,
As you wish to serve,
...

The transient evenings,
With eyes of fall and missing,
With sparrows twitters,
And disguised names,
...

I know the flood of youth,
All about that I know,
I seek and try, taste the fry,
Like lunch, and dinner,
...

He is a nervous empathy,
With aquiline countenance,
And he dare to meet those,
Dull stream of obliterated faces.
...

Since my prime, I have naked rime
I have seen the ravages of time.

The roses I guess, and embrace,
...

Something grotesque,
Obliquely plastic art,
Wanna, wanna, -ding dang,
Unsung ever, though sung.
...

Without you are image of absolute perfection,
Within convulse radioactive motion,
And saturate contented imagination.
...

He alone can know,
Whom with grace,
You embrace,
To his heart you go,
...