When the winds blow in the mountains, they create a music with the river and leaves of deodar, oaks and pines. A man never thinks of poetry, but observes it, feels it. The words do not exist then, only music. The soul of the mountains one cannot capture in pages. I have only tried to write about the music, and a little more from elsewhere. Mountains send the winds to other places too.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Such Inadequacies
Once I had two hearts, Or maybe two parts.. Never bothered much about the details, But now when each love fails.. I wish it was true, I had hearts two, Each with parts too..
Awesome Bhai!!! Sahi hai!
ReplyDeleteonce i had a heart
ReplyDeletewith only one part
but when love failed
i had that heart
broken into several parts
Amazing...sudeep!!
ReplyDelete