Take Up Your Book Poem by Satish Verma
Take Up Your Book
After the apocalypse,
the fiefdoms were growing―
buttercups― with golden flowers,
cupshaped.
Anemones and hellebores/
aconites and clematises/
famed for making lethal―
poisonous seeds.
So much went through us.
A billion years after― there will be
no life/ on earth. But we
have become lifeless now―
the poems incomplete.
It was getting smaller―
and smaller― the tall man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 3:56:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
