Saturday, December 19, 2009

Draft Poem

I traded the wine flask for the water goblet,
Gave up my hallucinations for an illusion.

Cursed be this hope!If you call it that,
I'm the rooster who mistook the burning taper for dawn.

A mere breeze toppled them across,
My ivory towers turned out to be fickle bubbles.

Seeing the holes in the garbs of others,
I tried to take refuge from my own nakedness.


Parth said...


Sanjeev Gadgil said...

is this a word for word translation??? :P

Amit J said...

@sanjeev:not a word for word translation...but yes i wrote something similar in urdu...btw how could you sense that(was it the wine flask?)

Harshvardhan Pande said...

i think it's deep enough for u to add some more verses!!!