Memory Of My Village Poem by Prabir Gayen

Once our Earth was beautiful and fresh in its pristine glory! But with overpopulation, the reckless exploitation of natural resources and escalating pollution, earth has lost all its beauty. Now we see an arid stretch of land devoid of fertility and green verdure! Time has stolen many things away! A poem almost like a lament!

Your searching poem coincides with my memories of the small village where I was born, and lived for 15 years. I still see 'the old familiar faces', some in cottages, some in houses. Morning prayer was part of the day's ritual, as in your attractive village.

Long years ago the earth Was green with pure shoot and pious Sun. The soil was unmixed with morning nectar, The air blew loaded with fragrance from furtive Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness

Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness. The old familiar faces in arduous cottages, The smoke that fought with morning mist, The cry though silent of empty stomach, And the night that desired not to end in Cold wintry night,

The soft, winsome sun, that warmed the earth did look curious and ingenious to revive the hearts. Prayer followed the stillness of the morn And dissolved in day's strenuous toil

Bare field and arid dust with populous Countrymen with nimble wit live with Seething eyes.///

The soft, winsome sun, that warmed the earth did look curious and ingenious to revive the hearts. Prayer followed the stillness of the morn And dissolved in day's strenuous toil

Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness. The old familiar faces in arduous cottages, The smoke that fought with morning mist, The cry though silent of empty stomach, And the night that desired not to end in Cold wintry night,

Long years ago the earth Was green with pure shoot and pious Sun. The soil was unmixed with morning nectar, The air blew loaded with fragrance from furtive Blooms that swayed in devious aloofness.

Bare field and arid dust with populous Countrymen with nimble wit live with Seething eyes.///