11/26/08 (Ulsoor Lake B'lore)
The plane of the water is like a page on which Phrases and even sentences are written,
But because of the breeze,and the turning of the year, And the sense that this lake water, as it is being Experienced on a particular day,comes from some source somewhere , beneath, within, itself.
Its pure origination somewhere else.
It is like an idea for a poem not yet written.
And maybe never to be completed, because The surface of the page is like lake water, That takes back what is written on its surface, And all my language about the lake and its Emotions or its sweet obliviousness, Or even its being like an origination, Is all erased with the changing of the breeze
Or because of the heedless passing of a cloud.
When,moments after the sun died,I looked into her face, it was as untelling as something natural, A lake, say,the surface of it unreadable, Its sources of meaning unfindable anymore. Her eyes were open as if she had something to say.But maybe my saying so is a figure of speech or maybe not.
The plane of the water is like a page on which Phrases and even sentences are written,
But because of the breeze,and the turning of the year, And the sense that this lake water, as it is being Experienced on a particular day,comes from some source somewhere , beneath, within, itself.
Its pure origination somewhere else.
It is like an idea for a poem not yet written.
And maybe never to be completed, because The surface of the page is like lake water, That takes back what is written on its surface, And all my language about the lake and its Emotions or its sweet obliviousness, Or even its being like an origination, Is all erased with the changing of the breeze
Or because of the heedless passing of a cloud.
When,moments after the sun died,I looked into her face, it was as untelling as something natural, A lake, say,the surface of it unreadable, Its sources of meaning unfindable anymore. Her eyes were open as if she had something to say.But maybe my saying so is a figure of speech or maybe not.
This poetry is not by me, but was written by someone for me when we met by the sides of ulsoor lake in Banglore
Dear jigna.
ReplyDeleteIt is really very expressive ,I feel that you should have opted for english literarure rather than,The depth of wordsworth,really too good.Keep up the good work.Wish you good luck.Looking forward for many more blogs.