Who can transmute
Many a ting
In his poetry
And which run
As stanzas
Connected with smoothly.
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God, save me, save me from
Indian KeatsComing to attendThe poetic conference,God, God,My God, the poets,Indian poets not,English poets and poetessesOf India,Indian Wordsworth,Indian Keats,Indian Shelley,Indian Coleridge,Indian Browning,Indian Arnold,Indian Eliot,God, O GodFrom the scholars,Pseudo-scholars,The poets,Poets,Indian poetsBritish not,Indian!
Your tearful eyelashes, I cannot, cannot see them, Nameless maiden,
Wet with repentant weeping and remorse, your sighs and sobs saddening, breaking me.
Sunetra Gupta
Of old and defunctCholera wards,Malaria wards,T.B. sanatoriumsHow did typhoid takeA toll upon,How did ghostly malarial feverComing as ghostTaking overAnd black fever wreaking havoc?
Who is the maiden
To light it at eve?Who is the maidenLighting in her country home,So simple and sweet?
Yezdi,
When will they be back toThe roads again,Yezdi, Yezdi motorcycles,My dream bikes?
It is a moon-lit night
Waiting,Waiting for you,My darling,Not for you,But the sweet memoriesOf yoursKeep maddening me,Making me restless,Giving painsTo the heart of mine.