Matla River
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Altın Yaprak
Under misted august sky
where the fishnet boats dot the Matla River
I stand drunken on the wild mangrove.
This abandoned out of world noon
when the river breeze whispers
you are deathless
my blood paints in my eyes her face.
Only the estuarine heron
wings smelling of sun and fish
is my timeless witness!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş