My Violin Comes And Sits Near Me, Plays On Its Own, And Weeps. Poem by Lajpat Chawla
My Violin Comes And Sits Near Me, Plays On Its Own, And Weeps.
It is the final sleep after which, no one has ever slept.
How can I go with so much left, so many promises unkempt!
Unknown hand in the dark, from my window still creeps,
My violin comes and sits near me, plays on its own and weeps,
Many of my bosom friends are empty nesters and alone
My pleasures I have shared with you, my sorrows are my own,
Ask my eyes, ask me not, why were they moist, why they wept
It is the final sleep after which, no one has ever slept.
How can I go with so much left, so many promises unkempt!
I have not found my wife, the red stone, and the pearl.
I have not found a good enough groom for my Cindy, my girl,
Few of them on my lane and the next, I have still not hugged.
Some of the girls Oh so awesome, I have still not nudged.
The waves run into me like crazy, I fear I may be swept
It is the final sleep after which, no one has ever slept.
How can I go with so much left, so many promises unkempt!
So beautiful with your great passion for life in every line, you write with such ease!
My violin comes and sits near me, plays on its own and weeps, Many of my bosom friends are empty nesters and alone Beautiful again! I like the flow of this and of course the rhyming.
An insightful and lovely poem, Abhilaaj. Thanks for sharing Peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:24:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
It is the final sleep after which no one has ever slept How can I go with so much left, so many promises unkempt! Deeply philosophical with rhyme and rhythm the poem is a beautiful write.