My Stella - 74 Poem by Prabir Gayen
My Stella - 74
- My Stella - 74
Death
Death seems dreadful to all aspirant hearts,
Death is the end of chattering mind.
No one wants the end of tidal waves - to be ceased, to be quiet.
The bubble though too pimping and miniature,
It is full to enjoy the cessation.
Death is the end of clinging and holding,
The more close we are to death the more proximate the life follows.
Life rests at death and mind with all its wish and appeal melts into quietness of everlasting
Fixity.
The black cloud with shower of densely deep darkness doth delve in my heart the flash of anamnesis of elapsed days.
With my family and friends of my childhood days,
The misery and peril of poverty and joy of living in mud and dirtiness.
Broken hut with young heart was the elysian bower,
Hungry, sad and elegiac were my quotidian life.
My parents born poor lived poor and richly deserve a departure with poor hearts.
My heaven is gone with the riches that balm the seeking heart of mine with repugnant cosiness.
Childhood passion is no more and I am drawn to you - to your wild eyes, beauty of my defunct days,
Your heart with similar pain and passion gleams my heart and my envision lost.
I am a consumed flame and my inner dolour finds metaphor in you.
You are my pain inborn and intrinsic and motivation to end the cycle of life.
The more close we are to death the more proximate the life follows.profound philosophy is expressed through each and every line
Death is the end of clinging and holding, The more close we are to death the more proximate the life follows. Life rests at death and mind with all its wish and appeal melts into quietness of everlasting Fixity....
Death seems dreadful to all aspirant hearts, Death is the end of chattering mind. No one wants the end of tidal waves - to be ceased, to be quiet. The bubble though too pimping and miniature, It is full to enjoy the cessation
The black cloud with shower of densely deep darkness doth delve in my heart the flash of anamnesis of elapsed days....
Death is the end of clinging and holding, The more close we are to death the more proximate the life follows. Life rests at death and mind with all its wish and appeal melts into quietness of everlasting Fixity....///
Death seems dreadful to all aspirant hearts, Death is the end of chattering mind. No one wants the end of tidal waves - to be ceased, to be quiet. The bubble though too pimping and miniature, It is full to enjoy the cessation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 6:00:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Impressive work...Choice vernacular and inveterating passion captures the Reader within the womb of the work...Structurally it does not flow well towards the middle of the work...Long phrasage could be better suited as 2 lines as opposed to one which will provide more fluxion, and cadence. Overall, I like it...Keep that pen pumping, Prab ~FjR'16~
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