There is no truth that is not worth the telling,
For I am too prone to forget
The sting of truth until it hurts again.
There is no love that is not worth recalling,
For I harden all too soon,
Unless affection thaw the petrified synapses.
Should I be proud or humble, seek or declaim?
What is there that I can do
To circumvent the recurrent darkness?
Two follies alternate: that of knowing
And that of rank bewilderment.
This is the time when I must summon up
The essence of my character and choose,
Knowing that any choice is foolish.
Even that knowledge is a benediction.
I have not forgotten the Saharas of Time,
The mocking laughter and the wailing waste.
But one is permitted to build sand castles.
- - - - - -
Ananta Madhavan's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Sand Castles by Ananta Madhavan )
Did you read them?
- Emptiness Of A Full Suitcase, Arno Le Roux
- Sree Budha, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Little Planet, Kazuko Shiraishi
- For you, shall never I be old, Saheb Mohapatra
- Because I love you much, Saheb Mohapatra
- God, it's the man speaking, Saheb Mohapatra
- Zoos, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- How would be my last breathe?, Saheb Mohapatra
- Fall, Frank Avon
- LIMERICK-2 (Saloon day), Saheb Mohapatra
Poem of the Day
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Home And Love, Robert William Service
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Hedgehog, Paul Muldoon
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1679 - 1718)
(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)