The Violet Flowers Of Rome Poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan

Life was not mellifluous
As the poems he made
Of the nightingale of Rome
Of the enthralling Cypress forest
Of the pine-tree ghosts in autumn!

He could hear the music of spring
That brought the ringing sound
Of the death-knell on the dawn
Of the chilly Italian City of Nero s?

The nature smelled his love
For the violet daisy-flowers
The grass beds of grass-hoppers
Showed lavishly on the earth
Of the empire city of Rome
To fulfill his last wish!

As the December winter
Filled the Rome with fog
And filthy air that put a blanket
Of mist over his beloved flowers
He was panting to catch every breath
But smiled on the memory
Of the violet flowers
And the Lilly flowers
That embody the chastity of nature!
The poet whose romantic verses
That urged the nature even to sing
Choose to lean on the lap
Of the violet flowers of Rome
And he slept in sensing
The fragrance of his loved color
And left the earthy abode
And broke the earthy bond
And immersed in deep sleep
With Shelley whom he befriended
Who found a watery grave
Whose heart never melt in the fire
That alone slept along with Keats
With timid rhyme and rhythm
And Rome mixed with Joy and sombre
Sat in hallucinations
And on intoxication of the romantic
Verses of Ode to a nightingale
And Ode to a sky lark!