The Withered Petals Poem by Jasbir Chatterjee
The Withered Petals
I hold the withered petals
of my illusions
in my hand.
Then I throw them on the ground
and lift my foot
to trample upon them....
But I can't,
Because I can't be cruel,
Because it hurts,
Because it is painful....
So I pick up again the withered petals
of my illusions
To keep for the cruel, cynical woman
I would be in a few years
For the woman in a desolate place
Who, with a cruel and sinister laugh,
would fling away the withered petals
Among the debris
in disgust
with me, with herself, and the ways of love.
Relevant irrelevance, an idea so beautifully introduced and developed and couched in the heart chosen imagery. A great dialogue with the self, And soon the murmuring heart replies, Fragrant memory in twirled petals survives. cp
Hi Jasbir, Really nice poem, again written with yr heartfelt feelings but pls remember that no matter what....love yourself.dont allow cynicism and disgust to enter you....if you did something with a true heart..thats what matters.let cynicism and disgust enter the others mind who were not true to themselves and to you.... Take care...Renu
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 10:33:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I can see that I will be reading late into night with your fine poetry You have injected beauty even into bitterness although a sort of ugliness is being implied Thank you