The Face With Hidden Screen Poem by Subrata Ray
The Face With Hidden Screen
Placid, lucid, shrine,
Reflects sublimated dumb,
As if the rays of liquid the sun runs.
Black with accumulated smokes,
Thwart the cast of normal eyes,
Tempered consumptions burn.
Rosy blush flashes and drops,
And links to the hungry stations,
With arrowed missiles that haunt.
The art gallery with psychic rows,
Erect faces from a single farm,
Each scene is hidden with a screen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 9:40:11 PM # 1.0.0.1119
