The Autumn In The Spring Poem by Subrata Ray

The Autumn In The Spring.

When Autumn Visits in mid-spring,
Foliage of youth has no withering,
The cuckoo grows with romantic wings,
And the first bees of summer go murmuring,
How a youth feels with tuberculin!

When poverty visits in well- to-do morning,
With a sturdy father's honest-unbending,
And riches' taunt on poor upbringing,
How Pity hides its face in unnoticed knocking,


When faceless faces with no face at all,
The loutish neighbors and fair weathers scroll,
Routing, , pouting the tender faith's call,
And spread yellowish vapor on your plant,
How would look upon around your democratic gallants!

Would you like to be a Conrad, Lincoln or Orwell,
And secretly share your dismayed tales,
With your grave or the graves of your shires,
In your writhing in silent fire .