I Could Not But Be Afar Poem by Pijush Biswas

Like the surging heat of May thou be'st
And I could not but be thy prey
I was unfit to thee, as thou grow'st
A beggar into my heart's alley.
In many a days I could see
Thee on there; I could not but be.

O, if I had done petty, or remain vast undone
What's little done to thee?
I wrote thy name in my verse alone,
Then what's much done to be?
The pretty rose, if, ever grows withered
Not it much to be bothered?

Let it awake again, thy Sun; I must
See thee again to be winged into my desire
Or, less forlorn to me; so trust
Upon thy broken lyre,
To sing aback against the brittle love-
A better would happen, hope, it above!





11-28-2014