Dominic Francis Moraes, popularly known as Dom Moraes, was a Goan writer, poet and columnist. He published nearly 30 books.
Moraes was born in Bombay (now Mumbai) to Beryl and Frank Moraes, former editor of the Times of India. He attended St. Mary's School (ISC), Mazagoan, Bombay, and Jesus College, Oxford University.
Moraes spent eight years in Britain, in London and Oxford, New York city, Hong Kong, Delhi and Mumbai.
He edited magazines in London, Hong Kong and New York. He became the editor of The Asia Magazine in 1971. He scripted and partially directed over 20 television documentaries for the BBC and ITV. He ... more »
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Dom Moraes Poems
Smear out the last star. No lights from the islands Or hills. In the great square
Altermann, sipping wine, reads with a look Of infinite patience and slight suffering. When I approach him, he puts down his book, Waves t the chair beside him like a king,
Ground in the Victorian lock, stiff, With difficulty screwed open, To admit me to the seven mossed stairs And the badly kept garden.
The architecture of an aunt Made the child dream of cupolas, Domes, other smoothly rounded shapes. Geometries troubled his sleep.
Tonight I see your blue protuberant eyes Following your angry wife, who sweeps away, With their perpetual look of mild surprise.
Comments about Dom Moraes
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Smear out the last star.
No lights from the islands
Or hills. In the great square
The prolonged vowel of silence
Makes itself plainly heard
Round the ghost of a headland
Clouds, leaves, shreds of bird
Eddy, hindering the wind.
No vigils left to keep.
No enemies left to slaughter.
The rough roofs of the slopes,
Loosely thatched with splayed water,
Only shelter microliths and fossils.
Unwatched, the rainbows build
On the architraves of hills.
No wounds left to be healed.
Nobody left to be beautiful.
No polyp admiral to sip
Blood and ...