Poem
Yash Sharma
As Memories Revisit
Twilight descendson the minarets of the mind.
The pain swells
as memories revisit.
Pain is a stranger.
And though the heart is mine
it beats for others.
Why do the eyes well up?
It was, after all, a mere glimpse that I had.
Algae grows across
the pond of the mind
like a tenant one retains
to grapple
with one’s loneliness.
He claims
he fulfilled all the promises
I did not.
Who will ever decide?
Who has ever understood?
The crazy poet asks the skies:
“How come
the malleable sun
of January
is visiting me
in summer?”
© Translation: 2009, Anil Sehgal
From: Tale of a Virgin River
Publisher: Monk Books, Mumbai, 2009
From: Tale of a Virgin River
Publisher: Monk Books, Mumbai, 2009
As Memories Revisit
As Memories Revisit
© 2002, Yash Sharma
From: Bedi Pattan Sanjh Mallah
Publisher: Vaasu Prakashan, Jammu
From: Bedi Pattan Sanjh Mallah
Publisher: Vaasu Prakashan, Jammu
Poems
Poems of Yash Sharma
Close
As Memories Revisit
Twilight descendson the minarets of the mind.
The pain swells
as memories revisit.
Pain is a stranger.
And though the heart is mine
it beats for others.
Why do the eyes well up?
It was, after all, a mere glimpse that I had.
Algae grows across
the pond of the mind
like a tenant one retains
to grapple
with one’s loneliness.
He claims
he fulfilled all the promises
I did not.
Who will ever decide?
Who has ever understood?
The crazy poet asks the skies:
“How come
the malleable sun
of January
is visiting me
in summer?”
© 2009, Anil Sehgal
From: Tale of a Virgin River
Publisher: 2009, Monk Books, Mumbai
From: Tale of a Virgin River
Publisher: 2009, Monk Books, Mumbai
As Memories Revisit
Twilight descendson the minarets of the mind.
The pain swells
as memories revisit.
Pain is a stranger.
And though the heart is mine
it beats for others.
Why do the eyes well up?
It was, after all, a mere glimpse that I had.
Algae grows across
the pond of the mind
like a tenant one retains
to grapple
with one’s loneliness.
He claims
he fulfilled all the promises
I did not.
Who will ever decide?
Who has ever understood?
The crazy poet asks the skies:
“How come
the malleable sun
of January
is visiting me
in summer?”
© 2009, Anil Sehgal
From: Tale of a Virgin River
Publisher: 2009, Monk Books, Mumbai
From: Tale of a Virgin River
Publisher: 2009, Monk Books, Mumbai
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