Why is it American?
The poetry of the settlers is not,
Colonists as nativists and dwellers,
The poetry of the Americas.
Poetry poetry,
British not, English not,
But American poetry, took time in recognition.
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You are devastated after love in such a way,
The craze for modernity and modern livingAnd the charms of itThat you have no time,Almost no time to look afterThe little sister of yoursExpecting your return,Ever waiting, ever expecting,When will eldest brother return to?Try to love your sister,Your small, but loving sister too,Not only feeling the pleasure of beingIn love with mad, mad, maddening belovedAnd…
My pastoral love, I still remember you,
My love, rustic mistress,Where lie you,My heart yearns for your love,Where are you shepherd girl,I loiter upto the mud house of yours,But find you not, my love?
Why is Kanishka headless,
The great Kushana kingSo powerful militarily,Politically, but so spiritualAnd so noble and decent.‘The Great King, The King of Kings, Sun of God,Kanishka’- – Mathura Statue Inscription
God, if You had to make the world,
God, Your Plan of Things,Scheme of Things, what to say about?The leopard, the hyena, the tusker,The hooded and hissing cobra and the deadly and fatal viper,Why did You, why did You, God?
Utani bhid mein main
Ganga Sagar,Kahan jo Kapil Muni Ashram,Kahan Bhagirath ka prayschita?Mujhe bas yahin rahane doJahan mein hun,Meri Tusu ke snag,Meri cchoti beti, meri cchoti TusuPuri raat-bharUska gaana shunata huya.In that so much crowdI shall not be able to go toGanga Sagar,Where ther Kapil Muni Ashrama,Where that Bhagirath’s penance for?Let me be hereWhere I am,With my Tusu,My small…
I, I,
Love, love,Say, say you,You.What, what did you?Say it again, darling?I,Say, say you again,Repeat, repeat itWithout any hitch.Hearing it, then said she,Listen to me,I, I,Love, love,You, you.