Here comes October with a little lull
And he feels the fall gets ready to soothes his everlasting dreams.
Someone plucks the strings of his old lute
But he has to sing the same old song
That lust becomes stale.
The pythoness of sorrow grabbed his soul eagerly
And he is only a stalemate on the chessboard of decaying life.
[ I remember the history says in Russia the revolution started in October 25,1917 the Bolsheviks gained the power by overthrowing the Kerenski provisional government.]
Sadness raised to the level of art. Very genuine and uniquely yours as always. Wishing you a happy October in spite of this pensive mood. As always, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your use of metaphor is sublime, Nimal. A fascinating poem about history and irony and autumn light. One of your best. love, Allie xxxx