Go along with me, Bosom Friend,
On a sailboat psychic.
To end of Rasulpur's stream
At the Junput outskirts.
River mingles with the sea,
Blue sky having held dear.
Cormorants, like the teal,
Require home for winter.
The human race in that place is very great,
With psyche filled by love's light-rays.
Grief's ebony upon their face,
To bear it is impossible.
Come for their sake for their dwelling,
A new world we build.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
In every season, even the fringe-dwellers must have a cozy nest.
ReplyDelete