<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d6418452\x26blogName\x3dFootsteps+on+Clouds\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://chirayu.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://chirayu.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7754879049997020549', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Monday, October 10, 2005

Poems


Read poetry on a slow Monday afternoon.

The Wind

The bay is thick with flecks of white.
The freezing air is honed and thined.
The gulls sleep on the stones tonight,
Wings locked against the prising wind.
With no companion to my mood,
Against the wind as it should be,
I walk, but in my solitude
Bow to the wind that buffets me.
~ Vikram Seth

To make love with a stranger is the best
There is no riddle and there is no test
~ From Vikram Seth's Unclaimed

Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets
to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.
~ From Pablo Neruda's Leaning Into The Afternoons

I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side.
The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
~ From Tagore's A Moment's Indulgence

Beautiful lines.

She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream...
We bear her along like a pearl on a string...

She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride...
~ From Sarojini Naidu's Palanquin Bearers.