The Prologue Poem
O love! Tell them, the good men,
In your own old melodious tone:
Let’s again—Return to Nature.
Whatever little or large is left,
Let’s re-adorn her.
And if they won’t!
Let’s—You and I.
Hand-in-hand walk away of the city:
Biharis stay by the smelling slums;
Laid-off-addicts stand in long queues; or the clerics kiss the petty politicians on brows.
Where monsters: War-weopens, Jingoism, Globalization, Modernity, and Machines,
Have spread havoc!
And find our abode, there,
Near the breezy woods, in the calm country;
Where well! I can meditate,
And you’ll have all that childish fun…
Running after the flies, or fighting with the bucks,
Dancing in sultry summer’s bursting rain,
Or mimicking a singing bird.
(the poems is the introductory poem of my poetry collection "TELL THE OLD LADY WAIT AND OTHER POEMS")
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