Jungle: A Soliloquy by Abinash Shrestha SignUp
Boloji.com
Boloji
Home Kabir Poetry Blogs BoloKids Writers Contribute Search Contact Site Map Advertise RSS Login Register
Boloji
New | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z | Ed's Choice | Articles | Knowledge Zone | Themes | Submit
Channels

In Focus

Analysis
Cartoons
Education
Environment
Going Inner
Opinion
Photo Essays

Columns

A Bystander's Diary
Business
My Word
PlainSpeak
Random Thoughts

Our Heritage

Architecture
Astrology
Ayurveda
Buddhism
Cinema
Culture
Dances
Festivals
Hinduism
History
People
Places
Sikhism
Spirituality
Vastu
Vithika

Society & Lifestyle

Family Matters
Health
Parenting
Perspective
Recipes
Society
Teens
Women

Creative Writings

Book Reviews
Ghalib's Corner
Humor
Individuality
Literary Shelf
Love Letters
Memoirs
Musings
Quotes
Ramblings
Stories
Travelogues
Workshop

Computing

CC++
Computing Articles
Flash
Internet Security
Java
Linux
Networking
Theme: Deforestation Share This Page
Jungle: A Soliloquy
by Abinash Shrestha
Bookmark and Share
  Pushing Jungle to a desert
I am singing of the immortality of it.
Along with jungle vanished will be the beauty.
Along with trees departed will be the appearance.
Along with birds flown away will be the decoration.
Along with rivers shredded will be the treasures.
Desolated will be the day,
no butterflies of youth flying around.
Flowers not in view, distraught will be the affluent seasons.
The golden-haired damsels of fragrance, alas,
will be kidnapped
by the clumsy-faced demons of foul smell.
Deprived of the warm embrace of leaves,
left in the lurch will be the wind.
Having lost the company
in hide and seek with jungle and river,
plunged will be the moon in despair.
Unable to sleep in the lap of trees,
suffocated will be the night.
Died will be the warm song,
sung for ages by the impulsive sun.
And transformed will be the pond
of lucid ambrosia into parched sand.
And the perennial flow of life,
will go on getting translated,
bit by bit, into a toxic fantasy,
into an abstract guffaw,
into an absurd wail.
The man
will become earth.
Deserted will be
the earth.
Pushing jungle into a desert,
uttering I am
a termite eaten incantation-
'May trees live long'

May 21 ,2006
More by :  Abinash Shrestha
Views: 1
Share This Page
Post a Comment
Bookmark and Share
Name*
Email ID  (will not be published)
Comment
Verification Code*
T2U56
Please fill the above code for verification.

    

 



Solitude and other poems by Rajender Krishan
 


    A Bystander's Diary     Analysis     Architecture     Astrology     Ayurveda     Book Reviews
    Buddhism     Business     Cartoons     CC++     Cinema     Computing Articles
    Culture     Dances     Education     Environment     Family Matters     Festivals
    Flash     Ghalib's Corner     Going Inner     Health     Hinduism     History
    Humor     Individuality     Internet Security     Java     Linux     Literary Shelf
    Love Letters     Memoirs     Musings     My Word     Networking     Opinion
    Parenting     People     Perspective     Photo Essays     Places     PlainSpeak
    Quotes     Ramblings     Random Thoughts     Recipes     Sikhism     Society
    Spirituality     Stories     Teens     Travelogues     Vastu     Vithika
    Women     Workshop
RSS Feed RSS Feed Home | Privacy Policy | Disclaimer | Site Map
No part of this Internet site may be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Developed and Programmed by ekant solutions