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Poem

Chandrakanta Murasingh

Forest – 1987

The fragrance of flowery garlands
Haunted the seven hills.
Have they blossomed this time? Who knows!
I can’t get to the forest now,
For I miss the cock’s call at dawn,
And the deer’s bark in the dusk.

The hen in the forest now
Roams and clucks from noon to dusk.
The haunting madhavi fragrance escapes the rustle of spring air.
It is acrid with the smell of gunpowder.

FOREST - 1987

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Forest – 1987

The fragrance of flowery garlands
Haunted the seven hills.
Have they blossomed this time? Who knows!
I can’t get to the forest now,
For I miss the cock’s call at dawn,
And the deer’s bark in the dusk.

The hen in the forest now
Roams and clucks from noon to dusk.
The haunting madhavi fragrance escapes the rustle of spring air.
It is acrid with the smell of gunpowder.

Forest – 1987

The fragrance of flowery garlands
Haunted the seven hills.
Have they blossomed this time? Who knows!
I can’t get to the forest now,
For I miss the cock’s call at dawn,
And the deer’s bark in the dusk.

The hen in the forest now
Roams and clucks from noon to dusk.
The haunting madhavi fragrance escapes the rustle of spring air.
It is acrid with the smell of gunpowder.
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