A gasping confession
of a pubescent fault.
Why did you enter the bed
of a molten lava?
Wisdom was in silent eyes
not on the lips of a blackened rose.
The water was white and cool
the sun was red and hot.
A mirror will never tell the truth.
Bleached was the face of moon.
One night I will be killed
in the hands of a benevolent foe.
Satish Verma's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (GEOGRAPHY by Satish Verma )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(13-7-31 (see reverse))
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